


Souvenirs We Never Lose

by Taliax



Category: Avatar: The Last Airbender
Genre: F/M, Friendship, Hurt/Comfort, Mutual Pining, Northern Water Tribe, One-sided Taang, Post-Canon, Rated T just to be safe but will likely be G, Romance, Starts with Maiko, Zutara, one-sided kataang
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-06-01
Updated: 2019-11-09
Packaged: 2020-04-05 21:23:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 36,750
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19048693
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Taliax/pseuds/Taliax
Summary: Zuko remembers what Katara said about the spirit water.  Now there are two scars to heal, and both his and Katara's feelings are more complicated—but if he wants to erase the past, she's willing to help.  She owes him that much, and more.





	1. the moment passed me by

**Author's Note:**

> A/N:  Back at it again with starting new fics instead of finishing current ones!  I hope any of my Kingdom Hearts readers who happen to be reading this will forgive me; this idea hit me at 1am a few weeks ago and hasn’t left me alone since.  Sorry friends Zutara hell waits for no man apparently
> 
> Thanks x1000 to Lexosaurus for betaing this!  Without her this fic wouldn’t be half as coherent like seriously she is amazing (Btw if you also like Danny Phantom you would totally read her fic “Everything Was White” you won’t regret it)
> 
> This takes place post-canon but is slightly au to the finale, but what ways it’s au will become clear in this chapter.  In other notes, the title and chapter headings are from the song “Name” by the Goo Goo Dolls.  Enjoy!

 

_~Even though the moment passed me by, I still can’t turn away~_

“Feeling nostalgic?”  Katara grinned out the corner of her mouth, strolling up to the prow of the ship.  

Zuko’s head twitched just enough to show that he’d heard, but he remained leaning against the railing, staring at the horizon as they cut through the frozen sea.  Despite the no-longer-familiar cold that sunk into her bones as they travelled farther north, he looked as comfortable as ever – well, as comfortable as he could be in those bulky Fire Lord robes.  She didn’t miss how he tugged at his collar when he thought no one was looking.

“No,” he replied without looking up from the water.  

She gazed at the ocean too, following the waves as they rolled away from the ship’s metal sides in mesmerizing patterns. White foam mixed with the stormy cobalt water to create a palette of swirling blues.  Mist sprayed up and tickled her face when she leaned closer, a comforting sensation that she hadn’t gotten while travelling on Appa.

“The last time I was here I almost died, remember?”  He said, managing to make it sound like any ordinary fact.  Koala sheep ate grass.  Water froze when it got cold.  Zuko almost died.

Phantom lightning flashed against the back of her eyelids when she squeezed them shut.  The North Pole wasn’t the closest he’d come to dying.  Not by a long shot. His hand hovered just below his chest over the hidden scar, as if he was recalling the same memory.

Well, soon he’d be able to forget a little more easily.  

“You’ve almost died a lot of times.  I wasn’t sure this one was that memorable.”  She forced a joke, hoping to distract him from the melancholy he’d settled into.  He’d been so quiet this entire trip… alright, he was the quietest of her friends anyway. But lately he’d had that scrunched look permanently plastered on his face.  Normally that expression only surfaced when he was puzzling through something particularly difficult, like when he’d tried to get Aang to focus on learning firebending, or when they’d devised their plan to face Azula.

Maybe his mood wasn’t over anything that big this time. It could be because this was his first time out of the Fire Nation since his coronation four months ago.  But with his uncle taking care of everything back home, she’d thought Zuko might be able to relax.  Or, well, whatever the Zuko version of relaxing was, since he’d never quite known how to handle a break.

Not that this trip was a break, technically.  They were meeting to discuss opening trade with the Northern Water Tribe, which might not be his idea of a fun vacation.  But he’d complained enough about sleazy politicians trying to sway him back home that Katara thought he’d appreciate the blunt nature of the Northern Tribe.

Ignoring all of the official reasons for the trip, she knew at least one thing that he was looking forward to.  Even though his suggestion had cut her inside, she would help.  She owed him that much.

She owed him more than that.  Even if he wanted to forget, she didn’t.

“I don’t think I could forget almost being crushed by the ocean spirit.  Or nearly freezing.  Or…”

He finally met her eyes, his lips tweaking into a smirk.  She met it with a relieved grin of her own.

“Or what?”  She snarked back, leaning against the railing too.  After all, it wasn’t like she had anything to worry from falling overboard.

“Or you kicking my butt,” he admitted.  Her face warmed.

“I hope you’re not expecting an apology.  You were a real jerk back then.”  The words came out before she thought them through.  Spirits, he was her friend; even if she’d been feeling conflicted about the purpose of this trip, there was no reason to snap at him.

He winced and then shrugged.  “I’ll give you that.”

Her stupid mouth—she could be as bad as Sokka sometimes.  She’d come over to figure out what was wrong, not make him feel worse.

“You’ve changed so much since then,” she said.

Just on the horizon, the icy architecture of the North Pole caught her eye.  The early winter sunset set the whole place aflame; the white snow of the buildings bled to ethereal reds, oranges, and pinks.  She held in a gasp at the sight, but Zuko looked like he barely noticed.

“Everything’s changed,” he said quietly, his chin dropping to rest on his hands folded over the rail.  “I just wonder if they’ll see that.”

“They _will._  You paid to have the whole tribe rebuilt!  And technically it was the ocean spirit that wrecked it more than the Fire Nation.  You’ve already gone above and beyond what you had to.”

He closed his eyes and sighed.  “It just… it feels like it still won’t be enough.  My country spent _one hundred years_ at war.  Hurting innocent people.  And now here I come, asking for a personal favor…”

His gloves stretched tightly over his knuckles as he gripped the rail.

“This was stupid.  This whole idea was…”

She placed her hand over his.

“It was a good idea,” she insisted, despite her own personal, selfish objections.  This wasn’t about her.  It was his body, his scars, his choice what to do with them.  “You had to come here for the delegation meeting anyway, and Yugoda will listen to me. I’m sure of it.”

Well, maybe _sure_ wasn’t the right word, but she was confident.  She’d done more impossible things before.

“I didn’t have to come.”  He wiped his face with one hand.  Steam puffed up as the frost melted from his glove.  “I could’ve sent the ambassador.”

“Well, I’m glad you came anyway.  I’d much rather be sailing for a week with one of my friends than with some stuffy old ambassador.”

He gave another shadow of a smile.  Spirits, she’d missed those, though she hadn’t realized just how much until she finally saw him again.  

“I’m glad I could convince you to come for a couple weeks.  I couldn’t do this without you.”

It wasn’t flattery, and his matter-of-fact voice showed it.  He really couldn’t do this without her.  She was the only one Yugada would trust with the water from the Spirit Oasis.

She was the only one he would trust to erase the two blistering marks on his skin.  One, seared there by his own father, he’d finally told her.  And the other, the jagged star below his chest, from when he’d—when he’d—

After months of practice she could keep the memory from completely drowning her, but it still came in fragmented snapshots.  The blinding blue flash.  His terrified shout. The paralysis that froze her without a single spark touching her skin–

Because he’d been there to take it for her.  She could have lost him forever, because she’d been stupid enough to look out from behind that pillar.  Because he’d been… been _everything_ enough to try to save her.

To almost die for her.

That had… put a lot of things into perspective.

But not quickly enough.  Maybe if she’d sorted through those feelings before Mai had come back…

No, she _wasn’t_ going down that path again.  Zuko was happy, and alive, and that was all she wanted.

Without warning, she felt a hand shaking her shoulder. She looked up to find Zuko staring at her in wide-eyed concern.  He was closer than she remembered; she shut down the sudden urge to touch the scar under his chest, just to make sure he was still okay.  

“Katara?  Can waterbenders get seasick?”

“I’m not seasick,” she grumbled, brushing him off in embarrassment.  There was no way he could tell what she was thinking, but that didn’t stop her from feeling like his golden eyes would see straight through her.

 _And see what, exactly?  We’re friends._ Which was exactly why she needed to get those traitorous feelings under control.  She wasn’t going to make things awkward, not like Aang had lately.

“Oh.  Err, sorry.”  He turned towards the water again, his face etched with that familiar Zuko flavor of awkwardness.  

Well, at least he didn’t look despondent anymore.  

“I hope I didn’t pull you away from anything too important.  Well, I mean you’re travelling with Aang, and he’s the Avatar, I guess everything you’re doing is important…”

She snorted.  “Are we remembering the same Aang?  He’s probably off riding giant koi or something.  Sokka’s visiting Suki in Kyoshi, but Toph’s sticking around for a little bit longer, so he won’t be by himself.”  

Aang might wish he was after a week of just the two of them, though.  She smiled at the thought of Toph teasing him, and of him shamelessly taking it until she got bored and gave up.  Hopefully that would be the worst of it.  Katara didn’t know what she’d do if she came back and found that the two of them had conned an entire village again.

“You’re not worried about him at all?”  Zuko asked, sounding surprised.

“Should I be?”  She frowned, pushing aside her earlier thoughts.  She couldn’t watch over Aang and Toph forever.  This “vacation” would be good for the three of them.  

“No offense, but you’re the worrying type.  And Toph and Aang by themselves…”  He grimaced.

“Who’s the worried one now?”  She laughed.  “Don’t get me wrong, they’ll drive each other crazy.  And probably destroy a few things.  Maybe scam some people… Okay, so I might be worried.  But you’re not the only one who needed to get away for awhile.”

“Really?”  His eyebrow crinkled.

“Really!”  She braced her arms against the railing. “I might not be running a country, but keeping track of those two is probably as much work.”

“I won’t argue with that.  How are they doing?”

“ _They’re_ doing fine.” she said.

He must have noticed her undertone, because his eyes narrowed shrewdly.

“How are _you_ doing?”

He’d asked the same thing at the start of the trip. But this time was different.  The first time had been an awkward icebreaker—he’d reverted back to some of his original shyness in the four months since they’d last seen each other—but this question was sincere.  Maybe this trip really could be like old times, when they’d learned to open up to each other more than she’d ever imagined.

Too late she realized that she’d relied on him more than she could ever admit.

“I’m…” Katara paused, letting out a mixture between a sigh and a laugh.  She hadn’t been asked how she was in so long, she almost didn’t know what to say.  The war was over; everyone just assumed she was happy—and she _was,_ mostly.  There was just something, something…

“I miss Sokka,” she found herself blurting.  It wasn’t the main thing, the right thing, but it was what came out.  And it was true.  “I love Toph and Aang, I really do, but Sokka’s my brother.  He’s always been there for me.  I write him every week, but it’s not the same.”

“Oh,” he said a little awkwardly.  Of course, he wouldn’t understand. His sister was literally insane.  But for a brief second, she wondered if he’d ever missed his sister when he’d been in exile, despite how horrible she was to him.

“That must be rough,” he finally said.   “I’m sure he’s missing you too.”

“Pff, I doubt it,” Her eyes fell back to the waves.  “He’s having the time of his life designing machines and spending time with Suki.  He tells me all about it in his letters.”

“Maybe he just doesn’t want you to worry about him?”  Zuko suggested.  

“Maybe.”

“Have you told him you miss him?”

“Well—no,” she admitted.

He shrugged. “Maybe he thinks you’re having too much fun without him, too.”   

She hated to admit it, but he had a point.  She was so used to staying strong for all of them, she tended to only write the fun things they did in her letters.  Only allow Sokka to see that everything was okay.

“I could see that, I guess.  He doesn’t know how much–”  She bit her lip.

“What?”  Zuko asked, catching her eyes again.  She felt her face flush, and his brow furrowed.

“Are you really that embarrassed that you miss him?  Sokka’s a good brother.  I’d miss him if I were you too.  I mean, I already miss him, and he’s not—”

She covered her laugh with her hand as Zuko’s rambling became less coherent.  She hoped this didn’t happen to him too often, or else he’d have a hard time as Fire Lord.

“I’m not embarrassed about Sokka, I’m—okay, you have to promise not to laugh.”

“You’re worried about _me_ laughing?”  He raised an eyebrow before putting on his most serious face, one that made _her_ laugh.  

Okay, maybe she wouldn’t mind him laughing—only because she heard his laugh so rarely, and she couldn’t admit that she’d missed it.

“You know what I mean.”  She rolled her eyes.  “Anyway, ever since you and Sokka left, and it’s just been me and Aang and Toph… Aang’s been…”

She massaged her forehead, wishing she didn’t have to say it out loud.  Even more than missing Sokka, this was what had really been bothering her.  She’d never spoken of it aloud, even though Toph had clearly guessed by now.

“Aang’s been what?”  He asked, and for all his talk of her being a worrier, concern laced his voice.  Her face burned; did he really have no idea?  Even though it had gotten worse recently, Aang had never exactly been subtle.

“He still… he has this…” She gestured her arms widely, uselessly through the air.  He stared at her, his head tilting slightly.  Spirits, she was just going to have to say it, wasn’t she?  

“He’s had a massive crush on me for who knows how long and it’s just getting really really awkward.”  It all came out in one breath.  His good eye widened, but before he could comment, she continued, “Somebody put it into his head that because he’s the Avatar and he beat the Fire Lord, he can have any girl he wants.  As if _that’s_ how love works!  I swear, whatever idiot gave him that idea must never have spoken to a girl in his life!”

Her voice was rising, grating as harshly as the steel against the ice the ship began to cut through.  She was drawing stares from the crewmen on deck, but she almost couldn’t bring herself to care.  She was tempted to just glare back at them, as if asking, _was it you?  Were you the idiot who told him that?_

“I told him I was confused before the comet, but I was just trying to let him down gently, since he had enough to deal with getting ready to fight Ozai.”  She dropped her voice but kept rambling, wanting to get it all out while she could.  “I should’ve just told him no then, then I wouldn’t be—I thought his crush would just go away if I ignored it long enough, but I—I just don’t want…”

There were too many thoughts, too many feelings, trapped in her head for too long.  They couldn’t all come out at once.  It wasn’t like her; normally even when she was angry, her words came out in a steady stream of righteous indignation.  But it was too hard to stay angry at Aang.  Maybe she wasn’t confused about how she felt about Aang, but she _was_ confused about what to do about it.

“I don’t want to hurt him,” she finally muttered, still not daring to meet Zuko’s eyes.  “But if he keeps trying to _woo_ me, or whatever he thinks he’s doing, I’m going to have to.  I think it’s the only way he’ll listen.”

She finally looked back to Zuko, wondering what he was thinking.  It had been a while since she’d dumped a rant like this on him, though it certainly wasn’t the first time.  He’d listened to her vent a number of times on Ember Island, on the nights he’d follow her into the kitchen to find her scrubbing dishes so hard they almost shattered.  She hadn’t taken that for granted, but after all these months without him, she wished she’d thanked him for that more.

His expression wasn’t anything like the calm commiseration he had back then, though.  He blinked at her like she’d been speaking a different language this entire time.

“Wait.” Zuko shook his head quickly.  “So you _don’t_ like Aang… like that?”

“What?  Were you even listening?   _No_ I don’t like him like that!”  She didn’t mean to snap, but she couldn’t believe he would think she’d actually… Well, at least it meant he hadn’t guessed her true feelings.  

“Of course I’ll always love him, but like, as another brother.  Anything else would just be weird, _especially_ the way he’s being now.”  She crossed her arms, as if they could keep the rekindled frustration from fuming out of her like a hot geyser.  “Not that it stops him from trying.  Or Toph from teasing me about it.  I’m sure she’s just doing it since you and Sokka aren’t around anymore to joke with her, but it’s still the worst.”

“Sorry,” he said instinctively, his gaze dodging hers.  His hand hovered just below his chest again.

“It’s not your fault.” She felt a little bad for dumping that all on him.  He had more important things to worry about than Aang’s crush.  Considering where his hand was brushing, his scar might even be hurting him again.  Her heart twinged, but there was nothing she could do for it now.  

Soon, though.  She was the reason he bore that scar; it was only fitting that she helped him be free of it.  That was what he wanted.

“It’s not like you could’ve stayed, anyway,” she added.  Hopefully none of her regret over that—or over anything else—bled through.  

“...Yeah.”  He frowned.  “I guess not.  Anyway, even if it’s not my fault, I’m sorry.  That sucks.”

Well, that was one way of putting it.  For as calm as his voice stayed, she caught the flicker of fire in his amber eye.  But before she could wonder what it meant, he turned back towards the interior of the ship.

“Sorry, Katara.  Just feeling kind of—seasick.  I’ll find you when we dock, okay?”

“Yeah.  Okay.”  She breathed as he strode away, the cape of his Fire Lord outfit billowing out behind him.  

The wind felt colder without him standing next to her.  

XXX

The candles in Zuko’s room erupted, threatening to ignite the ridiculous fancy drapes the crew had insisted on hanging in the otherwise bleak cabin.  He bit back his anger before any lasting damage could be done, but an acrid stench still lingered.  His nostrils flared as he paced the cabin, trying to control his breathing.  The candles flickered in time before settling back down.  His own emotions weren’t so easily tamed.

Aang had lied to him.  Aang, the Avatar—no, his _friend_ —had lied to him.  

_His bedroom door had creaked open._

“ _Zuko?  Can I ask you something?”  The normally cheery voice was subdued, but Zuko didn’t process that yet.  He was too busy wondering if this night could get any worse.  Why couldn’t they just let him sleep this whole humiliating experience off?_

_“Nngh.  I’m trying to sleep, Aang.”  He rolled over, flipping the pillow over his head._

_“Yeah, but…”  Aang trailed off.  Still standing in the doorway, a flickering fireball in his palm casting shadows across the room.  He obviously wasn’t going to be swayed easily.  Maybe answering his question would take less effort than sending him back to bed._

_“Fine, I’m awake now anyway,” Zuko grumbled, but didn’t sit up.  “What do you want?”_

_Despite the gruffness of his voice, Aang took the invitation to sit on the edge of his bed.  Nngh, that light was so bright…_

_“It’s about the play,” Aang said quickly.  His voice was way too urgent for the middle of the night, especially if it was just about that horrible excuse for a play._

_“Forget it,” he said, eyes still shut.  “It’s all fake anyway.”_

_It was an echo of Katara’s earlier reassurances, the ones she’d given to the whole group as they’d eaten a subdued dinner.  But really, if Katara hadn’t been able to comfort him before, what made Aang think Zuko could?_

_“But_ was _it all fake?  Really?”_

_With a long-suffering sigh, Zuko finally caved and sat up, wiping crust out of his good eye._

_“Why are you asking me this now?”_

_Aang just stared at him, his face almost ominous with the flickering light held under his chin._

_“What happened in the tunnels under Ba Sing Se?”_

_Zuko blinked.  Out of all the questions Aang could’ve asked, he picked_ that?   _This wasn’t a conversation he wanted to be having in the middle of the night.  Or ever._

It’s none of your business, _he wanted to say.  He’d done a lot of stupid things that day, but that moment… he couldn’t bring himself to regret letting her in, as much as he regretted everything after that.  She was the first person he’d allowed to touch his scar.  He couldn’t help remembering how cold her fingers had felt.  But soft too – like ice water.  Fitting._

_And her offer.  For all that the stupid play had made fun of her for it, Katara did know how to share hope.  The idea of the magic spirit water still lingered in the back of his mind.  He didn’t know how to bring it up again without saying, “Hey, Katara, remember that time in Ba Sing Se when you tried to help me and I totally stabbed you in the back?”  Even though she’d forgiven him, he couldn’t see that going well._

_“Something_ did _happen,” Aang muttered darkly, reading the wrong meaning into his distracted silence._

 _“It was nothing,” the lie was dry in the back of his throat.  It wasn’t nothing, not to him, but it definitely wasn’t what the play had made it out to be.  As if Katara would ever see him like_ that.

_That thought pricked at something in his core, but he chose to ignore it.  Nothing good would come from it, anyway._

_“Look, Aang,” he said when the younger boy kept glaring.  “What do_ you _think happened?  I was working with Azula.  You know Katara didn’t want anything to do with me.  Agni, I fought you guys right after that!”_

_But he realized he was addressing the wrong problem.  “Why does it matter anyway?”_

_He had a sinking feeling he already knew the answer.  There was only one reason the boy would wake him up in the middle of the night for this._

_“Katara’s_ my _girl,” he said, the fire in his palm leaping up.  “And she said she’s confused right now.  I just wanted to make sure you’re not the one confusing her.”_

_Katara?  Confused?  But she was more sure of herself than anyone Zuko knew._

_“Look, if anyone’s confused here, it’s me,” he snapped, rubbing the heel of his palm against his forehead.  “If I didn’t know better, I’d think you were threatening me.  In my own room.  While I’m trying to_ sleep.”

_Aang had the decency to look a little abashed.  Good.  If things weren’t going well between him and Katara, it wasn’t Zuko’s fault.  As much as he sometimes wished it could be._

_He immediately shut down that thought.  Agni, this is why you didn’t have conversations like this in the middle of the night!_

_“Can I go back to bed now?  Or is there something else you want to accuse me of?”_

_He probably shouldn’t have released his frustration at Aang, but it worked._

_“Just… be sure to give her some space, okay?”  Aang said, sounding a little more like his usual self before he slunk back towards the door._

_“Whatever,” he mumbled before flopping back on the bed._

_So this day could get worse after all._

Aang had lied.  The play had been accurate in one respect, at least—Katara _did_ see Aang as a brother.  Zuko snorted.  That would’ve been nice to know months ago, when…

When what?  When he’d actually had a chance?  He was kidding himself.  He’d almost let himself go down that path right after the Agni Kai, when she’d brought him back from the brink of death.  Those memories were little more than a blur.  The only clear image he had from that time was her face hovering inches above his, her eyes glittering with tears, her lips parted in an endlessly repeated prayer.

 _“Stay with me.  Zuko please, stay with me…_ ”

And that was probably just a wishful fever dream, anyway.  Even if she hadn’t been with Aang—if he’d _known_ she wasn’t with Aang—he couldn’t have told her how he felt then.  What if she thought it was just trauma-induced delirium?  Or worse, what if she said she liked him too, but only because she felt that she owed him for taking Azula’s lightning bolt?  That wouldn’t be fair to her at all.

_That was months ago though.  Now you could._

The candles flickered again as he shut out that voice in the back of his head.  It was hardly like he could ask her out when she’d just complained about Aang’s unwelcome advances.  That would be insulting.  Besides, he was with Mai again.  For however long it would last this time…

He scratched at the scar on his chest through his robes. He wasn’t sure when scratching at the scar had become a habit.  Maybe if it hadn’t, he wouldn’t be in this mess now.

But he had to wonder how long Mai silently narrowed her eyes at that simple action before she’d spoken up about it.

_“It’s a scar, Mai.  It’s not like I can get rid of it,” he grumbled, self consciously drawing his hand away from the one over his abdomen and brushing the one at his face.  “Believe me, if I could I would, but I... passed up that opportunity.”_

_Her eyes widened for a moment with unusual interest.  “But it’s possible.”_

_He turned so his scarred side was hidden from her.  “Maybe.  I don’t know.  I didn’t exactly give her the chance to try…”  Which was a good thing, he had to remind himself.  She’d needed the spirit water to save Aang.  Would he have been able to live with an unblemished face if it had meant the world burned?_

_Mai snorted._

_“What?  There wasn’t time!  That was when—”_

_“Seriously, Zuko.  I didn’t ask for your excuses.”_

_He felt his old temper flaring up. “You never ask me about anything!  Do you really not want to know what happened at all?”_

_“Why does it matter?”  She asked flatly._

_“Because—” He stopped himself. How could he explain it?  He knew in his heart that it did matter, that everything he’d been through had forged him into the person he was today.  But he couldn’t figure out how to put it into words.  Not now.  And he really didn’t want to fight again.  He was so tired of fighting._

_“Nevermind,” he muttered.  “Point is, my scars are just a part of me now.  You’ll just have to get used to them.”_

_“Hmm.  If you say so.”_

_But when she pulled him close to kiss him, he couldn’t help noticing her hands never danced near the scar in his core._

After that, he hadn’t been able to ignore it.  She glared every time he drew inward, holding a fist over his middle.  But the more he tried to hide it, the more his habit seemed to grow, as if he needed to protect that most vulnerable spot.

_“Does it hurt?”  Mai finally asked._

_His eyes had widened in surprise at the concern.  “Not anymore.  She did a fantastic job.”_

_He knew that was the wrong answer when her lip curled._

_“Then why are you always touching it and making that_ face _?”_

_“What face?  I don’t make a face!”  For a second he hoped she was going to mimic whatever face she’d made, just to show him.  But of course she wouldn’t break her mask for that._

_“Whatever.  I’m going on a walk.”_

_“You don’t go on walks.” His brow furrowed.  He really didn’t know what she was talking about._ Did _he make a face?_

_“And you don’t make faces.”  She shrugged, heading towards the edge of the courtyard before he could stop her.  But she paused at the edge of the columns._

_“Her name.”_

_“What?”  His heart skipped._

_“You don’t say it.  You assume I know who you’re talking about.”  It seemed clear that Mai had been thinking about this, but he didn’t understand why.  But her question was something he could grasp onto.  Maybe for once, he could find out what she was thinking.  That was, If she didn’t walk away first._

_He stood and reached out, but couldn’t bring his feet to move towards her.  “What—”_

_“I do know who you’re talking about, Zuko.  But if there’s any girl who’s name should go without saying, it’s your girlfriend’s.  Right?”_

_“...Right,” he replied, a chill running through him at her sharp gaze._ Don’t ever break up with me again, _she’d said.  This look seemed to say the same thing.  He was supposed to belong to her._

_The scar he scratched over his middle said he belonged to someone else.  And suddenly it all made sense._

He was making that face.  Mai had been right.  He couldn’t keep going on like this.

Three sharp knocks on his door pulled him out of the thoughts.  His hand shot away from his scar as if Azula’s lightning still buzzed there.

He cleared his throat.  “Come in.”

The crewman cracked the door but didn’t take his invitation.  “Ship’s about to land, my Lord.”

Zuko sighed.  “Thanks.”

“Uhh, you’re welcome,” he replied before striding away.  The crew was still getting used to Zuko showing them basic human decency.  He didn’t even want to think about how they’d been treated under his father and Azula, not to mention his own past self.

Agni knew he had plenty to think about already.  

 


	2. become our history

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks again to Lexosaurus for beta reading!!  And thanks to everyone who left comments/reviews on the first chapter, it means a ton!  I’m super happy with how this chapter turned out, buckle up because it's gonna be a long one

_~Reruns all become our history~_

It wasn’t a vacation.  It had never been a vacation, as much as it felt like one when she didn’t have to cook or wash clothes.  She still had plenty to keep her busy.  The days passed in a blur of economic discussions, combat training with old acquaintances—still mostly boys, but she was excited to find three girls had been admitted since she’d last visited—and healing practice with Yugoda.  

Even though concern for Aang and Toph tickled the back of her mind, it was nice to have this time on her own.  Training just for herself and not for the fate of the world was more of a relief than she’d expected.

Of course, Zuko’s request regarding his scars shrouded the otherwise peaceful atmosphere.  He hadn’t asked her again since they’d gotten here—he trusted that she would let him know once she had the spirit water—but she felt like she could see the unspoken question every time their eyes met across the council hall.

That was almost the only time she saw him.  At this rate, she’d have to get the water on her own, and then wait until the return trip to see if she could actually heal him.  Which would work just as well… but felt oddly disappointing.  

What had she expected?  That she would get to spend this not-vacation just hanging out with him, like old times?

She should’ve known it would be like this.  He was the Fire Lord now.  She was… well, on a technicality she was an ambassador from the Southern Water Tribe, but her presence was hardly necessary for the trade negotiations.  Zuko made sure she was admitted to the most important meetings anyway.  Having travelled the world—even if it was usually from atop Appa rather than by ship—meant she was at least a little bit useful in helping map trade routes.  

As much as she appreciated and enjoyed being included, today’s particular meetings had been nothing short of monotonous, and the lunch break couldn’t have come soon enough. Katara picked up a plate of food from the table at the back of the large dining hall and scanned the room for Zuko.  He was easy to spot at a round table in the corner.  As usual, the seats surrounding him were empty. Outside of the official meetings, no one seemed to know what to do with him, so they left him alone.  She couldn’t tell if that was because he was so young to be a leader, or just their wariness of the Fire Lord title.

She took a seat beside him, suppressing a laugh as he tried to peel a frost melon with his bare hands.  His fingernails barely made a dent in the fist-sized fruit’s tough white rind.

Finally, taking pity on him, she asked, “You need some help there?”

“What’s wrong with this thing?”  He said, finally giving up and dropping the fruit on the smooth ice table.  The dull _thud_ startled the delegates seated at the nearest table, though they quickly went back to their own conversation.

“Nothing’s wrong with it. Here.” She held out her open palm, and he handed over the frost melon.  “You just have to know the trick.”

Her fingers found the near-invisible crack in its stony rind.  With one quick smack against the table, the melon split in half.

“Huh.”  He blinked at the now-exposed blue flesh of the fruit.  “So the trick’s just to hit it really hard?”

“Not exactly.”  She held out the two halves.  “They grow underwater.  The rind hardens and cracks when it dries.”

“So the trick is just to hit it really hard on the cracks.”

“Pretty much.  It’s a good way to let out some frustration if you need to.”

“Believe it or not, that hasn’t been a problem lately.”  He cracked a smile and took back the melon.  

She could verify that statement first hand.  Even though the Water Tribe council mostly ignored Zuko outside of the trade talks, they took him seriously during them.  And he responded in kind, speaking confidently  with  his hands folded tightly behind his back while he discussed coal, oil, and fish prices. Only during these breaks did she sometimes catch him cradling his fist over his middle.

“You’re getting the hang of this whole Fire Lord thing, huh?”  

He shrugged.  “I don’t know if I’d say that.  I’ve just been doing what I always do.  Working hard, screwing up a lot, and learning from my mistakes.  And trust me, there’s been a _lot_ of those.  Those first few months…”

He ran his free hand through his hair—or tried to. Apparently he forgot it was in its topknot, and his fingers caught in the tight style. A few strands came loose as he tried to untangle them. 

She chuckled and reached up to push them back in place as best she could.  As cute as she found his hair like that, he wouldn’t want to look disheveled when the meeting reconvened.  

He froze, the unscarred half of his face going red.  Oh.  She drew back her hand and made a show of picking at her food while he finished fixing his hair.  Then she remembered what had prompted him to muss it in the first place.

“Hey, you’ve made it this far and no one’s tried to kill you.  I’d call that a success.”

He grimaced.  

She put down her chopsticks and gaped at him.

“Wait— _have_ people tried to kill you?”

“ _Shh_.”  He scooted closer, gesturing for her to keep her voice down.  “I’m fine.  It’s not a big deal.”

“ _Not a big deal?_ ”  She lowered her voice to a near-whisper, her hands clenching into fists.  “Zuko.  I know you’re used to almost dying, but you shouldn’t have to be!  That’s not—” 

 He cupped a hand over her fist.  “Look, I know, okay? That’s why I didn’t tell you.  I didn’t want you to freak out.”

“Being concerned that my friend could’ve been _assassinated_ is not the same as _freaking out.”_ If he got hurt and she couldn’t heal him because she _wasn’t there,_ if she’d brought him back from the brink of death just to lose him mere months later—

She forced herself to take a deep breath.  He was here.  He was alive.  And he was staring at her, his eyes trying to convey comfort to her when _he_ was the one who could’ve died.

“There have been fewer attempts than Uncle expected,” he said, as if that were actually good news.

“You _expected_ people to try to kill you?”

He shrugged.  “It tends to happen around successions.  Especially messy ones like this.  But most people, even in the Fire Nation, are just glad the war is over.  Really.  Everything’s fine.”

He made it sound like assassination attempts were an ordinary part of life, not even worth mentioning.  Maybe that was true for Fire Nation royalty.  She couldn’t imagine anyone ever trying to assassinate _Ozai,_ though.

She almost snorted at that. Assassinating Ozai had been the focus of their lives for the past year before the comet.  Shorter than that for Zuko, but he’d still been a major part of the plot too.  Maybe for him, being on this end of assassination attempts was better.

Then she was sad all over again, because no one should consider _being targeted by assassins_ an improvement.

“Okay,” she finally said.  “I trust you.  Just… you can tell me about stuff like that, alright?  I can’t promise I won’t ‘ _freak out,’_ but I’d feel better knowing than not.”

She would _really_ feel better if she could be there to take out any would-be assassins herself.  At least she was here now.  Not that she expected any assassins here. The negotiations were going well, and hired killers were taboo in Water Tribe culture.  Besides, if Zuko was worried about that, he’d have guards around rather than sitting by himself.  

Not that he had the best sense of self-preservation on a regular day.

“Fair enough.”  He nodded a little sheepishly.  Like he’d only now realized what a big deal it was to almost get killed.

Again.

“Good.”  She nodded back, deciding to let it go.  There wasn’t anything she could do about it now.

After a moment of awkward silence, he experimentally bit into blue flesh of the frost melon and made a face.  

“Not a fan, huh?”  She smiled and took back the other half of his melon.  

“It’s not bad,” he insisted, though his furrowed brow said otherwise.  “I just didn’t know fruit could be _salty.”_

He stared down at the melon like it had presented him a particularly difficult math problem.  She couldn’t help but laugh a little; it was just too cute.  

“What?”  He looked up in confusion.  A thin trail of salty juice dripped down his lip to his chin.  

 She felt her face flush and shook her head, biting into her half of the fruit to stop herself from grinning any wider.

“I just missed this, that’s all,” she replied.  That was a safe enough thing to say—definitely better than voicing her sudden impulse to wipe the juice from his lip.

“Really?”  He looked up at her with his head tilted.  

“Of course I did, Zuko.  You’re my friend.  We’ve all missed you.”  

It was true.  Even if it wasn’t what she really wished she could say. 

“Oh.”  His fingernails picked at the frost melon, meticulously separating the blue flesh from the rind. In a low voice, he added,  “Right.  I’ve missed everyone too.”

Was he… lonely?  Katara hadn’t been able to stay in the Fire Nation capital after his lightning wound no longer needed regular healing sessions.  There was so much Aang still had to do around the world to establish peace, and he needed her.  Going with him had been the logical choice.  Still, they tried to visit Zuko from time to time, even if that was less often than she would’ve liked.  But even without her and her friends, Zuko had his Uncle. 

 _And Mai,_ she reminded herself while stabbing a piece of fish a little too forcefully with her chopsticks.  She had to be imagining the emotion in Zuko’s voice.

“You have?”  She asked anyway.

“Like you said.  You’re my friend.  Er, all of you are.  My friends.”  He coughed.  “I never had to worry about where I stood with you.”

He pointedly avoided her eyes as  his hands continued to shred the pulpy flesh of his melon.  Something in his statement felt personal, like an inside joke she’d wasn’t privy to.  Only with much less humor.

“Is that something you worry about now?”  She asked softly.  Maybe she wasn’t the only one who only mentioned the positive in her letters.

“Too often,” he sighed.

He didn’t seem to notice the frost melon juice staining his hand as he pressed it against his torso—over his lightning scar.  Blue juice bled onto the silky red fabric, turning it a muddy purple.

“Oh,” he said when it registered, his face turning pink.  “I’ve got to stop doing that…”

“What, the Fire Lord ruins good clothes often?”  She waved her hand in front of him, and the juice bent out of his robes.  

He blinked before smiling in relief.  “Thanks.  Wouldn’t want to embarrass my babysitters.”  

He nodded at the adjacent table, where his advisors and other Fire Nation officials were sitting and looking even more confused about the fruit than Zuko had.  One even tried to split open a melon with a fingertip of fire.  

“They look pretty occupied.”   

His habit of putting his hand over his lighting scar had reminded her of the real reason she was here.  As much as she wanted to ask about what was bothering him, they only had so much time together—and she still needed to make good on her promise.

“So... you think you’ll be able to sneak away from them?”

He looked up in surprise.

“Not right now, of course,” she backpedalled quickly.  “After I talk to Yugoda.  I’ve been training in healing with her in the evenings.  I’ll find a way to ask her soon.  About… you know.”  

She didn’t think anyone else knew about his plan, and though the other Fire Nation officials _did_ look occupied, she didn’t feel right talking about it out loud here.  Everyone would know soon enough, though.  He couldn’t exactly hide having a giant scar removed from his face.  She wondered if he really planned on just showing up to the meetings one morning without it.  Knowing him, he probably would.  

“Oh.  Yeah, I’ll figure out something.”  He nodded, picking at his fruit again.  It was practically a pile of pulp by now.

“You don’t have to, you know. I can get the water and wait until the trip back.  If you’re busy, or—” 

“Katara.”  He  looked straight into her eyes.  “I won’t be busy.”

She ignored the tingle running down her spine and nodded slowly.

“If you’re sure, then.”

She hoped he didn’t notice how her own hands trembled as she finished off her half of the melon.

XXX

Black was the wrong color, he thought as he climbed out his second-story window that night.  He’d known that, of course, but he was despairingly out of options for inconspicuous attire.  Habit was only reason he’d brought his dark clothing at all.  And of the other eleven outfits Uncle had forced him to pack, there was no option that would help him blend into the ice and snow.

Of course, Uncle hadn’t known that he intended to sneak down to Katara’s room in the middle of their diplomatic trip.  _He_ didn’t even want to be sneaking.  He _wasn’t_ sneaking.  He just… found his black stealth suit more warm and comfortable than the billowing Fire Lord robes.  

Besides, who wanted to climb down the side of a slick building in a cape?  It just wasn’t practical.

He shouldn’t have worried though; all of his advisors ( _babysitters_ ) were long since asleep in the adjoining palace guest rooms.  The early northern nightfall had taken its toll on the firebenders.  Even the non-benders who didn’t have the instinctive need to rise and fall with the sun were still used to sleeping when it was dark outside.

Of course, Zuko had long since learned how to push through into the moon’s domain.

As he snuck—no, he wasn’t… okay, maybe he _was_ sneaking, just a little—he hoped that Katara wouldn’t mind the late visit.  She’d usually stayed up late when they travelled together.  Plus she’d wanted to know if he could manage to get away from everyone.  This was the easiest way to find out.

 _Don’t play dumb. That’s a stupid excuse and you know it._ His real reason—the question he wanted to ask her—hung heavy in the back of his mind.  

Still, even that didn’t warrant the dark clothes, or sneaking out in the middle of the night.  It felt right, though.  For the first time in months, his breathing seemed to come easier.  His inner fire invigorated him as it fought back the harsh cold. The only thing that would make him feel more alive would be the comfortable weight of his daos across his back, or maybe his old Blue Spirit mask over his face. 

Agni, Katara had been right—he _was_ feeling nostalgic.

_For what?  The times when I was on the run?  When everyone wanted to kill me?  When we still had to worry about defeating my father and Azula?_

He was Fire Lord now.  The political unrest in the wake of his coronation had settled down, and a whole month had passed without an attempt on his life. Reparations without and rebuilding within the Fire Nation were both going as well as could be expected.  The world was at peace.  Agni, he even had a girlfriend.

Who would probably have some sharp words to say if she knew he was sneaking towards Katara’s room right now.  

His face heated as he realized how it would look.  He had nothing to be ashamed of, though; he just needed Katara’s advice.

He pushed thoughts of Mai aside, pulled his dark wrap higher over his face, and crept onward across the courtyard.

The moon shone down brightly, gleaming off the polished ice and leaving precious few shadows to hide in.  He didn’t have far to go, though.  Katara’s guest house—the traditional Southern Water Tribe Ambassador’s quarters—was just below the courtyard.  

He slid down the icy cliff and landed silently on the terrace level below.  There wasn’t any reason to avoid the stairs, but if he was going to be sneaking around anyway, he might as well do a thorough job of it.

From there it didn’t take long to reach the small igloo-like structure Katara was staying in.  In fact it didn’t take long enough.  Doubt itched at him, nudging his hand back towards his sunburst scar.  Did he really want to hear the answer to his question?  It shouldn’t affect his decision one way or another.  The scars were interfering with both his royal and personal life.  Everything would be easier with them gone.

Then again, he wasn’t one to do something only because it was easy.

That thought gave him the courage to take a deep breath and knock on Katara’s door.

A second passed.  Then a few more.  Maybe she was asleep; he hadn’t knocked loudly, just in case.  Maybe that was for the best.  He’d never actually sought her out at night before.  Their only late conversations had been when they both ended up in the kitchen, unable to sleep.  Those times had become increasingly frequent over their stay on Ember Island, and even when she’d stayed in the palace to heal him, but that was months ago, and that didn’t mean she would welcome—

The door opened.

Katara blinked blearily a few times before her eyes snapped to his.  She wore a long, thick nightgown, and her hair was down, poofing out around her face in rumpled curls.  He hadn’t seen it like that since they’d traveled together, on the rare occasions she rolled out of bed late and waved off his offer of morning tea.  She was as beautiful now as she’d been then.

And now he knew that she wasn’t dating Aang…

_Stop it!  That doesn’t mean she likes you!_

Even if she did, there was no way she would stay with him, and—that was all _completely missing the point,_ because he was _trying_ to work things out with Mai.  She’d gone to prison for him, and forgiven him, and most importantly, she was still there.  He couldn’t handle being Fire Lord with no one his age around.  He needed her.  

And he’d promised not to break up with her.

Agni, he’d made a stupid choice in coming at night.  He imagined the moon laughing at his pathetic, traitorous emotions.

“Zuko? What are you...”  Katara scanned him head to toe, her eyebrows raising.  “Black doesn’t really blend in here, you know.”

He hoped the moon wasn’t bright enough to illuminate the his flushed face.  It seemed to glow a little brighter at that thought.

“...I didn’t pack any white,” he mumbled, dodging her gaze.  “And I, uh, sorry it’s late, I should’ve asked—”

She grinned and pulled him inside.  Woven tapestries adorned the walls, and a pattern of waves in the floor-length rug divided the small kitchen from the bed space.  A few polished ice windows let in the gibbous moon’s light. The fire pit in the corner and sconces set into the icy walls were unlit, but somehow the hut was still warm.  He hadn’t realized how much energy it had taken to hold his core temperature until he didn’t have to anymore.

“It’s fine.  I wasn’t asleep anyway,” she said, though her unmade bed and disheveled hair said otherwise.  Her fingers reached up to tame the wayward curls.  “I’m sorry, though.  I don’t have the spirit water yet.  I was going to ask Yugoda tonight, but the healing class went late...”

“Huh?  Oh!  I—I didn’t think you would.  I mean, I didn’t expect you to yet, I... that’s not why I’m here.”  He ran a hand through his hair, mostly to stop it from reaching for hers.  Agni, trying to talk to her this late was stupid for more reasons than one.  But he was running out of time.  She might not have the spirit water now, but she would soon.  And then she’d expect him to make his decision—or rather, to go through with the decision he’d already made.  The decision he’d been so sure was right, was necessary, until…

Until he’d realized just how complicated his feelings still were.

“You’re not?”  She asked in confusion.  “Then why… um…”

“I just wanted to talk to you.”  That probably wasn’t a good enough reason to invade someone’s house in the middle of the night.  It was the truth, though—he’d never been able to lie to her.  Now he just needed to ask his question before any worse truths came out.

“You snuck out of the palace at night… just to talk to me?”  Her lips curved towards a grin.

He felt his face flush again and winced.  So much for not revealing anything else.  

“Well not _just_ to talk to you, I mean, you wanted to know if I could sneak out.  So. I can.”

Did that sound better or worse?  She frowned as her fingers caught in her hair, but he couldn’t tell if it was because of what he said or just from the tangle.

“Oh.  That’s good, then.”  Her hands dropped back to her sides.  “Um.  It’s kind of dark in here, do you mind…”

He lit the lamps in the wall sconces before she could finish.  Warm light swept over them, seeming to wash the stiffness out of Katara’s posture.

“Thanks.”  She smiled, and he hid a sigh of relief.  She hadn’t told him he was being stupid, or to go back to the palace before someone noticed he was gone.  She was letting him stay.  He’d get to ask her.

His stomach clenched at that realization, and his hand instinctively found his scar again.  

“Are you… does it hurt?”  Katara asked softly.  Her hand twitched towards him.  

_“Does it hurt?”_

He flinched away at the memory of Mai’s words.  The spark that had brought him to this decision.  

“I’m sorry.”  Her arm quickly curled back to her chest, as if his response had burned her.  

“No, it’s—it doesn’t hurt.”  His hand stayed pressed against it anyway.  

 _“Not anymore.  She did a fantastic job.”_  

“Are you sure?  I could… I mean, I don’t have the spirit water, but I know Aang’s lightning wound still acts up sometimes, and regular healing can help the pain.”

The offer was tempting, but for all the wrong reasons.  He could only imagine what Mai would think if she could see him now, considering taking off his shirt in a different girl’s room.

He shook his head quickly.  “I’m fine.  Really.”

“Okay,” she said in a tone that suggested she didn’t buy it.  He was telling the truth though—the kind of hurt he clung to couldn’t be healed with waterbending.  

A rebellious part of him thought it might still be healed with her hands.

“At least have some tea.”  She was already moving to the small fire pit in the corner of the room.  

“Alright.”  He smiled a little and followed her, crouching down to light the fire before she could ask.

“You’re going to spoil me, doing that.” She chuckled as she bent the water from her waterskin into the kettle.

“What do you mean?  You asked me to light the torches. Besides, I used to start the cookfire all the time.”

“I know.  It took me almost a month to get used to doing it myself again.”  She set the kettle on the grate above the flames.  

He suppressed the fire from a bright yellow blaze to a gentle orange, the way Uncle had taught him so the water wouldn’t heat too quickly and spoil the tea’s flavor.  

He shrugged.  “Sounds like I should make up for lost time, then.”

“I guess it _is_ kind of cool to have the Fire Lord performing menial labor for me.” 

The return to her humor was a relief. Teasing was easier to handle than sympathy.

He flexed his fingers over the fire and deadpanned, “We’ll see if my delicate royal hands will be able to handle it.” 

“Well, don’t overexert yourself.”

They fell into comfortable conversation while the water heated, and for at least those few moments, it really was like old times.  The tension bled out of him, evaporated in the smell of charcoal, the warmth of the crackling flames, the cadence of Katara’s laugh.  He knew he still needed to ask his question, but a selfish part of him wanted to just enjoy the peaceful moment.  To enjoy being with her.

He _was_ enjoying this.  That was dangerous. Disasters usually followed moments like these.

“Zuko?”  Her hand on his shoulder snapped him from those thoughts.  “Are you okay?” 

“I’m fine,” he said reflexively.  He wasn’t ready for her sympathy, wasn’t ready to see her sad because of him again.  So even though he should’ve used it as a chance to ask his question, a different one came out.  “How are your combat lessons going?”

“They’re going fine, I guess.  It’s nice to have other waterbenders to train against, but I’ve mastered the Northern Style of waterbending already.”  She shrugged, as if it wasn’t a big deal that she was a Master at age fifteen.   It seemed he was destined to always be surrounded by prodigies. 

“I’ve actually been working on developing some new techniques.”  She scooted closer to the flames.  And to him, technically, but he assumed that was just a side-effect.  “You know that move you always use when you get knocked down?  Where you do the spinny thing with your legs?”

She twirled a finger in the air, and he rolled his eyes.  _Spinny thing._ Well, it wasn’t as bad as being teased for the Dancing Dragon, he guessed.

“Of course I do.  I invented that move.”  Rolling across the ground, transferring the momentum of a fall to his windmilling legs, releasing a whirlwind of fire to cover him as he regained his stance—the exact way he used it varied depending on the circumstance, but the maneuver had been one of his favorites ever since he’d used an early version of it against Zhao.

“Really?”  She blinked.  “Actually, that explains a lot.  I always thought it looked different from other firebending moves.  That’s why I tried to adapt it to waterbending.” 

“You’re kidding.” He gave her a disbelieving look.  “You haven’t seen me use it in ages.”

“Yeah, well, I— it might not be the _same_ move, exactly.  It was more like, you know, an inspiration.” 

“Sounds more like stealing to me.”  He smirked.  Inspiration, stealing—either way, she’d thought about him. That felt like some kind of victory.  If one in a game he shouldn’t be playing.

“Oh yeah, like how you stole my water whips?”  She raised her eyebrows.   “Or the wave form?”

“That’s different.  Those moves already existed; I created this firebending technique on my own.”  

It had taken a lot of practice—and even more falls—to make it work.  Maybe she was right about it being more suited for waterbending; that could explain why perfecting it had been so difficult.  The effort had been worth it, though. The move had been one of the few advantages he’d had against the more traditional firebending style, which didn’t provide any way to recover after being knocked down.

“Hmm.  Did you name it then?”

He snorted.  “No.”  

The thought hadn’t even occurred to him.  Should it have?  No, that was something he could imagine his father doing.  He would’ve come up with a ridiculous name like “Ozai’s Phoenix” or something.

“That’s too bad.  I’ve been calling it the Spinny Fire Fall Kick in my head, but that doesn’t have a great ring to it.”  She rubbed her chin before giving him a sly look.  “Then again, if you haven’t named your move yet, then I could name it first.”

He choked a little.  “We are _not_ calling it the… what did you say?”

“Spinny Fire Fall Kick.”  She grinned.  “Though I guess mine would be the Spinny Water Fall Kick.  Actually, Waterfall Kick isn’t such a bad idea...”

“And here I thought only Sokka came up with the terrible names.” He groaned and leaned back on his hands. Still, he couldn’t completely hide the smile on his lips.

“I’ve had to pick up the slack since he’s been gone.  Besides, I’d like to see _you_ come up with something better.”  

“I will.  As soon as I see you pull that move off.”

“Is that a challenge?” 

Her smug look sent static up his spine.  But before he could reply, the kettle started screeching.

Katara jumped to take it off the fire and then muttered at it under her breath.  “I should’ve taken it off sooner.  I can cool it with my bending, but boiled water still never tastes as good.”

“It’s not your fault, I should’ve been keeping an eye on the fire.”  He held the teapot while she poured in the hot water.  “Either way, I probably won’t notice.”

After searching for a moment, she found a pouch of lavender petals near her bed and returned to crumble them into the pot.  “Didn’t you work in a tea shop, though?  And your tea was always pretty good.”

It was?  Uncle said he’d improved after their time in Ba Sing Se, but Zuko had thought he was just trying to spare his feelings after he’d struggled for so long.  He smiled a little at the compliment.  

“Uncle taught me how to make tea properly, but I still can’t taste a difference.  It’s all hot leaf juice, more or less.”

“Hang on.  You make the best tea and you can’t even _tell?”_

“So my tea’s the _best_ now?”  His smile widened.  Katara didn’t pass out compliments easily—at least, she never had to him.

“Oh, don’t go getting a big head about it.”  She rolled her eyes.  Firelight flickered over her face, giving her cheeks the impression of a blush.  “You’re probably out of practice by now, anyway.”

“You’d be surprised.”

He might not appreciate the taste of tea, but brewing it was soothing, in a strange way.  Maybe it was just another of his nostalgic hobbies—if one with less potentially-dangerous consequences than running around on rooftops.  The warm herbal scents always brought him welcome comfort when Uncle had to travel on political business.  Brewing tea also doubled as a firebending control and meditation exercise, which helped during the moments when he wanted to light his paperwork on fire and chuck it out a window.

Of course, the calming effect hadn’t helped him during the one disastrous time he’d tried to show off his tea-making skills to Mai.

_“You don’t have to pretend to be a peasant anymore, Zuko.  Just let the servants do it.  That’s their job.”_

_“It’s not like that, Mai.  I_ want _to do it.  Uncle taught me how when we were in Ba Sing Se—”_

_“Pretending to be peasants.”_

_“Those_ peasants _are good people!  They’re proud and strong, and they deserve our respect.”_

_“Are you serious?  This isn’t a public address, Zuko.  You don’t have to pretend you care about them.”_

_“I’m not—ugh, forget it!”_

He didn’t realize his hand had found his scar—again—until Katara passed him a steaming teacup.  If she noticed his action, she didn’t point it out.

The warm vapor curling from the cup loosened the tightness in his throat. What had they been talking about?  Oh, right. Tea.

“Your tea’s good too,” he said belatedly.

She snorted and shook her head before pouring her own cup.  “You just said all tea tastes like hot leaf juice.”

“Yeah— err…”  He covered his stammering with a sip and nearly choked when it burned his tongue.  “It’s—uh, good leaf juice.”

“Sure, whatever you say.”  She smiled and chilled her tea with a breath.

“Um… do you mind doing mine too?”  He asked, holding out his cup with a sheepish smile.  

“You mean the firebender doesn’t want it scalding hot?”

“This firebender’s had enough burns, thanks.”  He meant it to be a joke, but his voice came out too somber.  

Her eyes flickered to his left eye, then his middle.  He fought the urge to protect that spot—it wasn’t like she could see the scar through his black clothes, and even if she could, she’d seen it plenty of times before while healing him.

“Of course.”  She exhaled over his cup, accidentally covering his knuckles in frost as well.  He shivered before taking a sip.

Too cold.  At least that was a problem he could fix.  Katara’s downcast silence, on the other hand, might not be.

 _Nice going._ Zuko wanted to groan.  For these last few moments, he’d felt… _right._ For once.  Like he belonged here, sitting on her floor, talking about nothing and drinking tea.  For those moments, he didn’t have to be the Fire Lord.  He didn’t have to be the perfect boyfriend.  He didn’t have to _be_ anything—except himself.

But he’d known it wouldn’t last.  Things that made him happy generally didn’t.

Well, at least he didn’t have anything to lose by asking his question now.

He cleared his throat.  “Katara?”

“Yeah?”  She asked quickly, meeting his eyes over her teacup.

 _Don’t look at me like that.  It’s not fair._ The reflection of flames danced in her blue irises.  It would be difficult to toe the line between telling her enough to help him with his question, and not telling her so much that she uncovered his real motivation for asking.

“Do you think I’m doing the right thing?” He hoped his desperation didn’t show through his voice.  “Getting rid of my scars, I mean.”

There.  It was out.  Maybe it was a stupid question—it felt stupid, now that he said it out loud—but he needed to know.  He certainly had enough reasons to want them gone, but part of him—the same part that liked sneaking out in black clothes and brewing his own tea—felt an attachment to the blemishes on his skin.  It was too complicated to sort out in his head, but talking it out with her might help him decide.  She’d helped him gain the courage to apologize to Uncle.  He believed she’d have similar wisdom again.

His heart pounded in his chest as he waited for her reply.

“...Do you _not_ want to get rid of them?”  

“I do.  I did.  I don’t know.”  He covered his middle with one hand, the other gripping his teacup so tightly it could crack.  “I’ve got a lot on my mind.”

“Well, if you want to get it _off_ your mind, I’m here,” she prodded gently.  

“Are you sure?  It’s complicated.  It might take a while.”  

“Of course I’m sure, Zuko.  That’s why I offered.”  Her tone was light, but her smile sincere.

He inhaled shakily.  He didn’t know what he’d expected.  Katara wasn’t the type to tell him to shut up, but he still wasn’t used to anyone besides Uncle caring about what he had to say.  Unless what he said was a Fire Lord order, of course, but that didn’t count.

“Right.”  He took a sip of tea to collect himself. “I told you how I got the scar on my face.  I used to think it marked me—but you know that.”

Another gulp of tea.  She knew all this.  He was just going to bore her, going over it again.  He should have gotten over it by now. After four years, he was still just weak, pathetic—

Her hand was covering his over the teacup.  It wasn’t until then that he realized he was shaking.  A few drops of tea had fallen on his dark pants.  He hadn’t felt it.

“It’s okay,” she whispered. 

“It’s _not_ okay.”  His voice came out too harsh, but her hand just tightened over his.  “I’ve chosen my own destiny.  My father’s in prison, and Azula’s getting help for her… condition.  I’m not in their shadow anymore. I can fix the terrible things we’ve done.  But this scar…”  He shook his head.  “People look at it, and they don’t see what it means to me.  All they see is a weak, disfigured boy trying to fix a weak disfigured nation.”

“Zuko, no one—”

“You haven’t seen it!  It’s even worse here, _everyone_ stares!  I can tell they’re thinking it.  How am I supposed to represent my country when people take one look at me and think I’m—I’m disgusting?”

His voice cracked on that last word. His eyes squeezed shut.  It wasn’t so bad, usually.  People in the palace knew better than to stare.  But foreign nobles and ambassadors, his own citizens, and the Water Tribe—they didn’t.  Wide eyes and barely-veiled gasps often were their first reactions.  

Deep down he wondered if that was why the Tribe didn’t speak to him much outside of the trade negotiations.

“ _Zuko_.”  Katara squeezed his arm.  

His trembling hand splashed more tea into his lap, but he barely noticed.  Her stare pinned him as easily as her ice needles could have.

“You are _not_ weak.  You’re not disgusting, either, I can’t believe you would—” She shook her head, and her gaze softened.  “My point is… you don’t deserve that.  Scar or no scar, you’re…”

His heart sank as she trailed off.  If even Katara, the one person who could both scare him senseless and tell him exactly what he needed to hear, couldn’t think of something positive to say about him, then he was even worse off than he’d thought.

But it didn’t matter.  He was here for advice, not sympathy.  He was just about to shrug it off when her voice came warm and clear.

“...you’re the strongest person I know.”

He blinked.  Had he heard that right?  No.  Aang had defeated his father; that by definition made _him_ the strongest person she knew.  Besides herself.

“You don’t have to try to make me feel better, Katara.  I just—”

“What, you really think I’d lie to make you feel better?  Can’t you just trust me and _take the compliment for once?”_

This time he wasn’t sure the fire in her eyes was just a reflection. He wasn’t sure whether to feel afraid or touched.

“Sorry.  I’m not used to it, I guess… but thanks.”  He swallowed another gulp of tea, then busied himself refilling his cup.  Hopefully that would keep her from seeing the redness in his face.  

“No, wait, _I’m_ sorry.”

He looked up at the sound of her sigh.  Her eyes remained downcast, staring at her frosted tea.

“I shouldn’t have yelled at you.  I _do_ want you to feel better, but I… this must be bothering you more than I know.  I can’t fix that with words, and it just makes me…”  She trailed off as ice began to crystalize through her cup again.  “It’s no excuse, though.”

“No, I get it.”  He lit a fire in his palm and held it near her tea until the ice thawed.  “Sorry I yelled, too.”

She didn’t deserve that.  She didn’t have to listen to him at all, but here she was, letting him ramble about his problems when she could be sleeping.  She was a better friend than he deserved.

“I know there’s nothing you can say, and I don’t expect you to.  My scar will always make me look different.  People don’t like you when you’re different.”

She frowned down into her still-full cup. “...I can understand that.  That doesn’t make them right, though.”

Maybe it didn’t, but it didn’t change the fact that it hurt.  

“There’s other reasons I should get rid of it, too.  My sight and hearing aren’t as good on my left side.  Every once in a while the skin still itches, especially when I’m in dry places.”

“Even after all this time?”  She looked up, her brows turned upward.

“I didn’t have a waterbending healer like you to fix it.  There’s only so much regular medicine could do.”  He shrugged.  “Anyway.  I’ve got a lot of reasons to want it gone.”

“But… you have some reasons for wanting to keep it too?”  She picked up on what he left unsaid.

“...Yeah.  I do.”  He brushed his fingers over his older scar.  The rough skin felt right to his touch by now.  He wasn’t sure what his face would feel like without it.

Actually, he feared that he did.

“I don’t want to look like…”  He grimaced.  “You know.  You mistook his baby picture for me.  That’s not the only time we looked similar.”

Katara blinked before catching on.  “You mean… _oh.”_

“Yeah,” he said before she could study him. Look for any traces of Ozai in his face.  

Logically, he knew that she’d never seen Ozai in person.  She wouldn’t be able to tell one way or another.  Somehow, that was comforting.

“That’s not the only reason.  The other reason, though… it might sound kind of stupid.”  His thumb traced the etchings on his teacup. “I got this scar right before I was banished.  Looking back, that was the best thing that ever happened to me.  I feel like if I erase this scar, it’s like saying I regret everything that happened since then.  Like I’d just be going back to the person I was before.”

He took a long drink.  The tea was already cold again, but he didn’t bother warming it.  

“Zuko… I don’t think that’s stupid at all.  It’s… kind of sweet, actually.”

He choked on his tea.  When he looked up, Katara was smiling softly again.

_“Sweet?”_

“You know what I mean.”  She drained her cup in one gulp and refilled it by bending a stream out of the teapot.  “It reminds you of who you are.  There’s nothing wrong with that.”

Something in his stomach unclenched at that.  It didn’t really help, though—she’d validated both his reasons for wanting to keep _and_ to get rid of the facial scar.  

“How can you say that?  I brought you all the way here to get rid of my scars, and now I’m telling you I might have wasted your time.”

“No, you haven’t.  I’m still glad I came, whether you want me to heal you or not.  Like I said before, I needed the vacation, remember?”  

“It’s not a vacation.  Technically.”

She shrugged.  “We’re staying up late and I’m not doing anyone’s laundry.  Feels like a vacation to me.”

“It _is_ getting late, isn’t it…”  He frowned at the moon through the window.  It had been too easy to ignore how limited their time was.

“Hey.  Don’t change the subject.”  She nudged him gently.  “You were on a roll there.”

His lips twitched into a faint smile.  Of course she wouldn’t let him off the hook that easily.

“You changed it first, talking about vacations.  But anyway.  I still don’t know what I’m going to do.”  He sighed over his tea, which had the welcome side effect of reheating it.  “I don’t want you to ask for the water for nothing.”

“Even if you don’t want me to use it, it wouldn’t hurt to have some in case of an emergency.  You never know, traveling with Aang.  He might, I don’t know, fall off a hopping llama or something.”  

It was a joke, he knew; she could heal simple injuries like that.  But neither of them wanted to imagine their friend suffering another wound that would need spirit water.

He nodded.  “You still didn’t answer my first question, though.  Do you think I should get rid of my scars, or keep them?”

Despite everything, he managed to keep his voice even.  He was pushing his luck by asking a second time.  But what she thought about this was important to him—more important than it had any right to be.  If she told him to keep his scars, he knew he would.

And maybe, deep down, that was what he hoped.  

Katara swirled her tea in her cup, but didn’t answer.  What was she thinking?  She hated them too, didn’t she; she was just thinking of a polite way to tell him—

“You remember when you helped me find Yon Rha, right?”

The sudden transition caught him off guard.

“Of course I do.”  

As if he could ever forget.  Her silhouette against the sunrise after a sleepless night, her raw power turning the body’s blood against it, her anger freezing rain to daggers.  Exhaustion, pain, fear, relief.  It had been the first time he felt like he truly saw her.

Ever since, he hadn’t been able to look away.

“You didn’t tell me what to do when I faced him,” she continued, oblivious to the warmth and guilt circling each other in his stomach.  “I had to make that choice myself.  I think this is your Yon Rha, Zuko.  Whatever you choose to do will be right.  But it’s _your_ choice.  I’ll be with you, no matter what you decide.”

He stared at her in stunned silence.  He swore she’d hear his heart beating out of his chest.  How did she know exactly what to say?  She must have secretly talked to Uncle.  But even Uncle didn’t know about his plan to erase his scars.

“Ride or die, huh?”  He grinned a little, remembering the jokes Sokka had made about them after that trip, and then again before they left to face Azula.  They’d brushed Sokka off with some huffing, and—in Katara’s case—waterbending.

 She gave him a pointed look, and her eyes flickered towards his middle. “Just ride.  No dying this time.”

“No dying,” he said with his hand pressed against that scar.  He wondered if her answer would’ve changed if he explained his reasons for erasing and keeping _that_ scar, rather than the one on his face.  Her half-parted lips made him wonder if she wanted to ask.  But she just drained her teacup and refilled it with her bending.  

He could see inside the teapot; it was down to the dregs now.  He didn’t really want them, and he didn’t need to buy any more time.  He’d asked his question.

He dumped what he could into his cup anyway.  

“Thank you, Katara.”

“It’s no problem.  I trust you, remember?”  

With that smile, she could’ve bent him as if he were water.  

He buried his face in the rest of his strong tea, wishing he shared her confidence in him.  This was a decision he only got to make once.  His usual habit of bungling things the first time wouldn’t work here.

“So… do you still want me to get the spirit water?”  She asked.  The real question.

“You said it yourself. It won’t hurt to have it.”  He swallowed the last of his tea.  He’d warmed it too much; it scalded his throat on the way down.  

He told himself that that was the only part of him that hurt.

“Right.”  She nodded.  “Tomorrow I’ll make sure to talk to Yugoda.  Or today, I guess.  I’ve kept you up late enough.”

“Last I checked, you weren’t the one who showed up at my house in the middle of the night.” 

She laughed.  “Fine.  You’ve kept _me_ up late enough.”

“Sorry.”  He started clearing up what he could of the tea set, but she quickly washed it with a dancing stream of water and bent the dirty remnants into a basin.

“Don’t worry about it.  I rise with the moon anyway, remember?”

He rolled his eyes but smiled. “Trust me, I remember.”

He’d never imagined they’d be able to joke about that comment, only a little over a year later.  He’d never imagined he’d look at her and not see just a dangerous waterbender, but a… a good friend.  

Someone who instead of fighting, he had almost died for.

His lightning scar seemed to itch, as it always did when he thought of that Agni Kai.  Of all the stupid reasons to want to keep his scar, that was the stupidest.  

Erasing the scar wouldn’t erase the memories.  It wouldn’t change the past.  She would always be a part of him, no matter what.  He was beginning to wonder if even spirit water could fix that.  

Or if he wanted it to.

But he had to hope it could, didn’t he?  Like water through his fingers, Katara would leave again.  He couldn’t keep clinging to the past.

“Zuko, wait.” Katara’s voice shook him from his thoughts.  “I’m not letting you go back in _that.”_

She was already across the room, where he’d remained standing in front of the fire.  The flames extinguished with a sharp flick of his wrist.  He left the sconces lit, though, not wanting to plunge the room into complete darkness.

She pulled a nearly folded parka from the trunk at the foot of her bed.  After holding it up and inspecting its length, she tossed it to him.

“You’ll be less noticeable this way.  Everyone wears parkas at the North Pole.  No one will think it’s weird if you pull the hood up over your face.”

He nodded.  It was smart, definitely smarter than his pure black ensemble.  

“You won’t need it?”

“I have a spare.  Besides, I wouldn’t want you freezing out there.”

“Firebenders don’t freeze.”  He shrugged on the parka anyway.  It was a little small, but it felt softer than it looked; thick white fur lined the inside.  Some of Katara’s clean scent still clung to it.  He restrained himself from taking a deep breath.

_So much for letting go._

“Look at that.  Practically Water Tribe.”  She crossed her arms and smiled as she looked him over.  

He ducked his head in embarrassment, feeling a little like a turtleduck with how the fluffy collar covered his face up to his ears.

“It’s better than Earth Kingdom colors.”  He tugged on the too-short sleeves. “Thanks.”

“You can thank me by not getting caught sneaking back to your room.”  She gently shoved him towards the door.  He chuckled as she herded him out, barely managing to get out a “goodnight.”  

He took one deep breath and let it out, letting the freezing air clear his head again.  He was right back where he’d started, still just as confused about what to do.  Yet somehow, everything felt different.  

This choice was his.  He could determine his own destiny.

Maybe firebenders didn’t freeze, but as he made his way back, he still felt warmer with her parka enveloping him.


	3. letters that you never meant to send

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’m back from my KH bingewriting with another chapter of this, finally! Thanks to the ever-amazing Lexosaurus for help on the ending of this chapter! Also thanks to everyone who left comments/reviews!

_~Letters that you never meant to send, got lost or thrown away~_

“I’m fine!  Look, I don’t need to go to Gr— _Yugoda_ —come on, it’s just a scratch, _listen—”_

“Stop _struggling,_ Kelek,” Katara huffed, though the words tried to stick in her throat.  Kelek _was_ fine. There wasn’t that much blood, really. Katara had seen plenty of worse injuries before. 

She just usually didn’t make a habit of inflicting them herself.

“I can walk by _myself,_ okay?  I’m not some fragile little girl!”

She grit her teeth.  She had half a mind to drop him for that comment, but she knew that despite his insistence, his leg wouldn’t carry his weight.  Her accidental ice daggers had made sure of that.

She kept her shoulder under him.  He kept struggling.  Spirits, the older boy was just like Sokka used to be—too proud to ask for help, too dense to realize he couldn’t take care of everything himself.  But she had never hurt Sokka like this, even before she’d gained control of her waterbending.

_Don’t look down.  Just… don’t look at it._ It wasn’t her fault he wouldn’t let her heal his leg, anyway.

“Stupid, stupid…” Kelek’s disgruntled muttering echoed Katara’s thoughts.  

_Spirits,_ why had she done that?  Ice attacks were too dangerous for her sparring partner’s combat level—she hadn’t even _meant_ to use ice, she just… 

It was the stupid Waterfall Kick.  She’d been too eager to practice it again, but what she _should’ve_ been practicing was control.  It made sense, with adapting a move based off of firebending.  Firebending was all about control.  She should’ve known better.

Oh, she was _so_ stupid.

Her face burned with shame as she tuned out another one of Kelek’s tirades.  If he’d just let her heal him, she wouldn’t have to take him all the way to the healing huts, but he stubbornly refused to let her bend near him.  At least taking him to the healing huts prevented her from being lectured by Master Ituq—for now, at least.

“Hey.  Hey.  Show-off.  We’re _here,_ you can let _go—”_

She did.  The older boy stumbled a few steps before leaning against the arched entryway of the healing hut.

“Finally.”  He rolled his eyes and limped inside.  

Katara hovered behind him as they entered the dimly lit structure.  Her eyes kept gravitating towards the ragged gash in his pant leg—three gashes, technically.  Though it was hard to tell under all the blood.  He could’ve at least washed that off.

“What’s this?”  A familiar voice asked.  

Katara grimaced.  Of course, of all the healers who could have been on duty, it happened to be Yugoda.  The one she would be happy to see any time but now.

The older waterbender stepped away from where she was separating salt from pots of ocean water with her bending.  She squinted down at Kelek, who straightened and pulled his hand away from his leg.

“It’s just a scratch,” he insisted.  “She barely got me.”

Katara wilted as Yugoda turned a curious frown on her. 

“It was an accident!  I… I’m really sorry.”  She wasn’t sure if she was directing the apology at Kelek or Yugoda.  Probably both.

“Accidents do happen.  More often with this boy than most.” Yugoda sighed, her gaze softening.  “Come now, dear, let’s get you patched up.”

After one last token grumble, Kelek settled on the cot.  Now that Katara got a good look at his face, she could see how pale he looked.  Spirits, she should’ve healed him earlier, no matter how _fine_ he said he was.  

“I do have to wonder why Katara couldn’t have helped you.” Yugoda glanced at her as she gathered the water to her hands.  “You’ve healed far more complicated wounds than this, correct?”

“Yes.”  Katara bit her lip.  “Kelek didn’t want me to heal him.  After… you know…”

Yugoda frowned.  “If you’re powerful enough to give him those injuries, then you should be powerful enough to fix them.  Come here.”  

Katara felt her face warm as she removed her parka and pushed up her sleeves.  She stood at Yugoda’s side, ready to do as instructed.

“What? You’re going to have her do it anyway?” Kelek moaned from the cot.  

Yugoda carefully lifted his hand off of the wound.  “Katara is a capable healer.  You would have been wise to let her help you sooner.”  

“I told you, I’m _fine._ I don’t need her help.”  Ragged brown bangs fell over his eyes as he turned away, but he didn’t protest further as Yugoda began cleaning the cuts with a damp rag.

As frustrated as Katara was with Kelek, it was hard to blame him.  She was just as embarrassed about the situation as he was, if not more.  She was supposed to be a waterbending master.  Even if she was working with a new technique, she normally wouldn’t make a mistake like this.

Still, she only had herself to blame.  Her head hadn’t been in it today.  Not after staying up so late, after hours of turning over how to ask Yugoda for the spirit water, after wondering if she even _could_ heal Zuko’s scars… wondering what he’d look like without them… wondering if he really wanted to forget the moment he took that lightning bolt... 

No, she wasn’t giving him enough credit.  He said he didn’t want to forget how his life changed because of his facial scar.  Even if he wanted to forget the pain his sister had inflicted, Katara knew it wasn’t because he regretted taking the lightning.  It must just be so hard, bearing two marks of how much his family hated him...

“Alright, Katara.  Your turn.”  Yugoda stepped back.  Kelek’s face, if it was possible, grew even paler.

“A-alright.”  She swallowed and bent a stream of clean water from the bowl into her hand.

Kelek flinched as she approached him.  That involuntary action stopped her short.  Did he really think that her healing was worse than the pain he was already in?

“It won’t hurt,” she said softly.  “I promise.  I’ve healed plenty of injuries worse than this.”

He snorted.  “You get a lot of other people hurt too?”

She cringed.  _You have no idea._

“Kelek, I understand you’re upset, but that was uncalled for,”  Yugoda said sternly.  “I have half a mind to send you back to Master Ituq.  Maybe you’ll reconsider your attitude when those cuts scar.”

The water surrounding Katara’s hand trembled.

“Please, don’t.  It’s fine,” she told Yugoda.

“No, _I’m_ fine,” Kelek insisted.  His fingers dug into the cot beneath him, but he flashed a grin.  “I don’t even care if it scars.  I’ll just say a tigerwolf clawed me and I fought it off with my bare hands.”

“No,” Katara said quickly.  Ignoring his protests, she gripped his leg with her water-glove before he could jerk away.  “No one’s getting any more scars on my watch.”

Kelek hissed at her touch and kept fidgeting, making her job that much more difficult.  It had been months since she’d healed an injury this deep—months since—

_Stop thinking about that.  Not paying enough attention is how you hurt Kelek in the first place._

She poured her focus into the punctured skin.  Rather than running on instinct as she usually did, she remembered Yugoda’s lessons from earlier in the week.  Search for the threadlike chi pathways that pulsed through the leg, follow those paths through the injured tissue, and let the water flow through it like energy itself.  Tension bled out of Kelek’s leg as the skin reknit.  

Completely smooth.  Completely unblemished.  Of course, that was expected when using waterbending healing on simple injuries like this.  Katara let out the breath she hadn’t realized she was holding.

“See, was that so bad?”  Yugoda asked.

“No,” she replied before realizing she was talking to Kelek.  

“Huh.”  He squinted at his leg and flexed his calf muscle experimentally.  “You couldn’t have left just a _little_ bit of a scar?”

“No!”  Katara clenched her fist, and the used water froze around it.  “You should be grateful it didn’t scar!  Some people don’t _have_ that luxury!”

“Okay, okay, chill!”  The panicked note in his voice, coupled with the defensive way he raised his hands, made her wonder if he expected her to injure him again.  “Can I go back to training now?”

Yugoda sighed and nodded.  Kelek hopped off of the cot and was halfway out the door before she called, “Be sure to change your pants first!”

The only answer was a distant laugh.  Well, at least Katara knew he really was fine.

“Oh, Kelek…” Yugoda shook her head.  There was a hint of affection in the gesture.   “He’s my grandson, you know.  His recklessness comes from his grandfather’s side.”

“Oh.”  Katara swallowed guiltily and picked at the ice encasing her hand. How could she ask the woman for a favor after hurting her family?  Even if Kelek _was_ fine now.  “I—I’m really sorry.  He wasn’t being reckless.  It was my fault.”

At Yugoda’s frown, the full explanation came pouring out.  

“We were sparring.  I should have gone easier on him, but I wanted to try out a new bending technique, and I… I wasn’t ready to use it against a partner yet.  I slipped and froze the water when I did the kick.  I was so…”  She clenched her fist, and more bits of ice flaked off.

“What’s done is done, Katara.  This wouldn’t be the first time Kelek has gotten hurt in training, and I’m sure it won’t be the last.  Though I do wonder…”

“What?”  A freezing feeling grew in her stomach, as if she’d bent ice there, too.  Was she going to be forbidden from training again?  It wouldn’t be the end of the world; she only had a few more days before the trade talks would be over—but if she was banned, she could only imagine the excuses others would use to boot more female benders from combat training too.

“I may not be trained to fight, but I still know that not many waterbending moves involve kicks,” Yugoda continued.  “I was just wondering where you learned a move like that.  Did you manage to find a Southern Style teacher?”

Katara’s mouth opened before she snapped it shut again.  What was she supposed to say, that she’d learned it by studying the Fire Lord?  But Yugoda was right.  Waterbending—at least in the Northern Style she knew—didn’t use the legs as much as the other bending forms.  It was part of what made the Waterfall Kick so appealing.

“I created it,” she said, which was technically true.  She got the feeling that Zuko wouldn’t appreciate her taking the credit, though.  “But I still shouldn’t have used it.  It was reckless and that’s my fault.”  She was repeating herself, she knew, but she really didn’t need more questions on her bending.

“Well, at least you can admit it.  Thank you for being honest with me.  Half the time Kelek comes to see me, I never get to the bottom of how he got hurt.”  She sighed.  “Honestly, it’s a miracle that boy doesn’t have a half dozen scars already.”

Katara finally melted the remaining ice encasing her hand and bent it into the waste bucket.  “I just can’t believe he actually _wanted_ a scar.”

“Boys are funny like that, aren’t they?”  Yugoda smiled.

“Not _all_ boys.”  Bitterness leaked into her voice.  

No, some boys just wanted to look normal.  Some boys didn’t want their most terrifying moments permanently burned into their skin.  Some boys _deserved_ to be free of those painful souvenirs—if that was what he wanted.  

She was going to fight for that chance.  Whether or not he took it was up to him.  

“This isn’t about Kelek, is it.”  The Yugoda frowned in sympathy, the creases in her face deepening. 

Katara bit her lip.  As much as she’d messed up earlier, this was still the perfect opportunity to ask about the spirit water.  She had to try.

“No.  It isn’t.”

With a knowing smile, Yugoda waved her over to the cushions sitting along the curved wall.  Katara folded her legs under her and smoothed her blue skirts over her knees.  Yugoda settled down cross-legged beside her.  There were a few moments of awkward silence before Katara spoke.

“I’ve been worried about… a friend of mine.”  She took a deep breath.  If she wanted Yugoda’s help, she would need to be honest.  “Zuko.”

“The Fire Lord?”  Yugoda sounded surprised.  “I wasn’t aware you were close.  Though I suppose that explains why you arrived with the Fire Nation delegation rather than on Appa.”

Right, the Northern Water Tribe—and the Tribe’s women in particular, unfortunately—was still fairly isolated.  They wouldn’t have heard about Katara’s role in ending the war.  Not that she wanted to show off, but surely it would give the female waterbenders confidence if they knew another girl had beaten the Fire Princess in combat.

“It’s a pretty long story,” Katara began.  “Zuko and I worked together near the end of the war.  It took both of us to stop his crazy sister during the comet.”

“Is that so?  I bet that was a sight to see.”  Yugoda smiled warmly and squeezed her arm.  “You’ve come so far, Katara.  I’m glad you were able to use the kind of bending you wanted.”

“Me too.  But actually… it was your lessons that helped me so much.  Zuko… he got really hurt during the battle…”

Maybe it was because Yugoda’s quiet way of listening reminded her of Gran-Gran, but soon the whole story was spilling out.  The Agni Kai, Azula coming unhinged, and...

“He took a lightning bolt for me, Yugoda.”  She balled the ends of her parka in her fists.  “I was able to heal him—mostly—but still.  He almost _died.”_ He voice choked.  “It was all my fault.”

Yugoda’s rested her hand on her knee.  “Katara, you can’t blame yourself for that.  It sounds like you still saved his life.”

“I know, but… I couldn’t get rid of the scar.”  She squeezed her eyes shut.  

She wondered if the memory of that moment would ever stop replaying against the darkness.  Did Zuko see lightning when he closed his eyes, too?  Did he feel phantom electricity shooting through his stomach, barely dodging his heart?

Yugoda frowned.  “That burn on his face?  That was from lightning?”

“No!”  She looked up quickly.  She didn’t know Yugoda had even seen Zuko.  Maybe she hadn’t, and had only heard of his burn.  Either way, it felt wrong that Zuko’s scar was common knowledge to people who didn’t even know him.  She remembered what he’d said about people staring.  

“I mean, that was from—from something else.  This one is below his chest.”

“Poor boy.  That sounds like a difficult burden to bear, especially for one still so young.”

An uncomfortable feeling stirred in her chest.  _He’s not disgusting,_ she wanted to say, though that wasn’t what Yugoda had implied.  Her tone held more pity than anything.  Zuko might find that worse. 

“He wants... to get rid of them.”  She laced her fingers together in her lap.  “I told him about the water from the Spirit Oasis that Pakku gave me last time I was here.  I wasn’t sure, but I thought it might be able to help.”

“Hmmmm, yes.”  Yugoda gave a thoughtful nod.  “It isn’t strictly necessary, but it would make the process easier, certainly.”

Her eyes widened. “Wait, you mean it’s possible to heal scars _without_ the spirit water?”

“For very skilled healers, yes.”

“So… does that mean you could do it?”  The more sentimental part of her didn’t want to ask.  If anyone was going to heal Zuko’s scars, she wanted it to be herself—but that wasn’t fair to him, if there was a willing healer who could do a better job.

Yugoda chuckled.  “It’s not quite that simple, my dear.  Scars like the Fire Lord’s often aren’t merely physical wounds—spiritual damage may be involved as well.  If the chi pathways have been severed for too long, or if they are clogged with anger and regret… it isn’t only a matter of skill.  He would need to allow you to feel the pain of his spirit.”

_The pain of his spirit._ Lightning flashed in the corners of her vision until she blinked the memory away.  As much as it had shattered her to see him take that bolt, how much worse had it felt to actually suffer it?  

But it didn’t matter what pain she’d have to share.  If he wanted it gone, she would bear it with him.  

“Will it hurt him?”  Her fingers dug into the cushion as she asked.

“There would be some discomfort.  Untangling that kind of spiritual damage is not easy, for the healer nor the one being healed.  But if you believe he would still want to try…”

“I… I think he will.”  Though she didn’t know for sure what he would choose, he would definitely want the opportunity to decide for himself.

Yugoda nodded, as if she’d expected this response.  “Then you will need the water from the Oasis.  This isn’t something I am allowed to give you though, I’m afraid.”

“What?”  Katara’s eyes widened.  “Why did you bother telling me how to heal Zuko if I still can’t do it?”  

He would be devastated that they’d come so far just for his plan to fail.  He’d try not to show it, but she could imagine the slow way he’d exhale, letting out the disappointment in one long breath.  His eyes would dart away as he scratched at the starburst scar.

No, she wouldn’t give up yet.

“Pakku was able to give you the water because he was a member of the council.  It was deemed a worthy investment in the Avatar’s journey, as well as a gift in repayment for help in defeating the Fire Nation.”  Her face scrunched.

Of course, even with better relations between the two nations now, a hundred years of war couldn’t be erased so easily.  The Siege of the North was still a raw wound.  If it weren’t for Zuko’s generous offers—and the knowledge that his uncle had tried to protect the original Moon Spirit—this trip likely would have never been attempted.

The woman cleared her throat before continuing.  “For a personal matter such as this, however, you would need to speak with Chief Arnook.  The Spirit Oasis is still sacred, perhaps even moreso now that Princess Yue has passed on to the Spirit World.”

Katara bowed her head at that.  She had thought of Yue more often since returning to the North Pole.  If she had the opportunity to visit the Spirit Oasis, she wanted to give an offering to pay her respects.

But now it sounded like she might not even be able to do that much.

“I understand,” Katara replied quietly, though it was empty words.  She _didn’t_ understand.  Why wouldn’t the healers have access to the most powerful healing water?  If there was ever an accident, they wouldn’t have time to get permission from the council.  But that was probably another of the Northern Tribe’s ridiculous customs.  Yugoda wasn’t to blame.

The older woman smiled warmly, squeezing her shoulder.  “Come now, don’t look so sad.  Arnook is a reasonable man.  He may still grant your request.”

“To use sacred water to heal the _Fire Lord?”_ She choked out a laugh.  “The trade negotiations might be going well, but not _that_ well.”

“You may be right.  But you’ll never know until you ask.”

“I guess… but why are _you_ so willing to help me?  You don’t know that Chief Arnook will allow it, but you still want me to try.  Why?”

Something twinkled in Yugoda’s eye.  “Does a healer ever need a reason to help someone?” 

“...I guess not.”  Katara smiled sheepishly.  

Yugoda’s words reminded her of her own promise months ago.  She would never turn her back on someone who needed her.  Right now, that someone was Zuko.

Yugoda squeezed her shoulder again.  “Come, now.  You’ve already missed plenty of combat training, and I know that’s your favorite.”

“N-no, I mean…” Katara spluttered.  “Healing is so important too.  I get that now.  I’m sorry I didn’t appreciate it as much last time I was here.”

“Well I’m glad to hear that, but you don’t have to spare an old woman’s feelings.  I know plenty of my young healers who are excited to begin combat training thanks to your influence.  And it is because of you that I’ve gained some young men as my students, too.”  A far-off look entered her eye.  “You really are Kanna’s granddaughter...”

Katara’s face warmed.  She wasn’t sure if she’d been meant to hear that last part.

“Oh—well, I’m glad.  They deserve it.  All of them, I mean—learning the kind of waterbending that they want to.”

Yugoda nodded.  “It’s certainly been a learning experience for us all.  But I suppose what I mean to say is that if there’s something you want to fight for, I know you can do it.  Both healing and fighting are a matter of spirit, and you have plenty of that.”

Katara fought back a grin at that.  She was sure it would take more than spirit to convince Chief Arnook to give her some of the spirit water, but she _would_ do it.  

“Thank you, Master Yugoda.  I’ll do my best.”

XXX

Zuko smeared a hand down his face.  Something felt sticky.  Had wet ink been on his fingertips?  He rubbed the back of his hand against his cheek, and it came back with the telltale smudge of black.  Great.  Well, that was what he got for trying to work so early, he guessed.

He would’ve stayed up to finish last night, but he had been too exhausted after yesterday’s extended round of meetings.  And probably from the lack of sleep the night before, though he wouldn’t admit it.  He might be used to pushing himself, but the lack of sunlight this far north still took a toll on him.

The candle on his desk flickered at his sigh.  If today’s meeting went smoothly, it would be the last of the official trade talks, but the thought didn’t fill him with the satisfaction he expected.   Returning to the humid warmth and longer days of the Fire Nation would be a relief, but…

Agni, he was pathetic.  Was he really going to miss Katara that badly?  He was just digging himself a deeper grave by getting attached again.

He scratched his scar.  Like he had ever really let go.

_Focus.  Now isn’t the time to mope over your personal life._ He still needed to finish revising the trade contract.  Advisor Atsuko had done a respectable job with the first draft, but Zuko was still the Fire Lord; the final copy needed to be approved by him.  And that was a good thing too, because there were still sections of Water Tribe benefits that had been glossed over with vague words, a few too many possible loopholes, and—

A firm knock sounded against his door.  Wait, not the door, the—window?  He jolted up, only to see Katara’s face grinning from the other side of the glass.  

She waved.

He gaped for a moment, too stunned to wave back immediately.  How had she even gotten up to his second-story window?  And more importantly, how could he stop his heart from beating so fast at the sight of her?

She breathed on the glass, fogging it over.

_“Can I come in?”_ She wrote on it with a finger.  Or, that was what he thought it was supposed to say.  One of the characters was backwards, so it really read something more like “ _Can I cabbage in?”_

He shook his head and laughed.  He edged around his desk to breathe over the adjacent pane.

Careful to mirror each of the characters accurately, he wrote, _“If you can.”_ Unlike reasonable Fire Nation architecture, Water Tribe windows didn’t open.  Probably so that the meager indoor warmth didn’t leak out.

She looked like she laughed—he couldn’t hear it through the thick window—and made a fluid gesture with her arm.  The ice next to the window turned to water, held in place by her bending. 

He should’ve known better than to challenge her.  He stepped back as she glided through the water barrier, propelled by the same stream of water that had apparently helped her reach this height.  Then she flexed her fingers, and the wall refroze, just as it had been before.  He was left blinking at the soaking wet—but still grinning—waterbender.

“And you thought how _I_ snuck out was dramatic.”  He rolled his eyes even as his heart skipped.  Even if she was showing off to poke fun at him, he couldn’t help the awe he always felt at her abilities.

“Hey, you shouldn’t get to have all the fun.”  She bent the water from her parka and froze it back against the wall.  

Then she took a better look at him, sending self-conscious waves of heat through his body.  He was still in his sleeping robes, with his hair hanging around his face haphazardly.  Maybe this was payback for his visit two nights ago, when she’d been dressed similarly.  She definitely pulled off the just-rolled-out-of-bed look better than he did, though.

“Zuko, you look exhausted.  How long have you been awake?”

He blinked at her forwardness, then darted a glance at his candle.  A large puddle of melted wax betrayed him.

“Not that long,” he lied.  She raised an eyebrow.

“I thought you were supposed to rise with the sun.”

“The sun _should’ve_ risen by now,” he replied grumpily.  If he wanted someone to nag him about his sleeping habits, he would’ve brought Uncle, or one of the bolder servants.  Though at least if he was complaining back at her, it meant he wasn’t just staring stupidly.  

“Why did you come if you thought I was still asleep?”

“Saw the candle in your window.”  She shrugged.  “I never got to talk to you last night about what Yugoda said.  Oh, and you have mail.”  She pulled a scroll case from her pocket and waved it with a smile.

He took it and slipped it into his pocket, trying to ignore the spark of—apprehension? Fear?—he felt at the mention of the healer.  “They’re letting you pick up my mail now?”

“It’s not exactly top secret business.”

“Wait—you looked at it already?”  His hand tightened around the scroll.  

“What?  No,” she said quickly.  “I’m not _that_ nosy.  The hawker said it was marked personal, not business.  It just came in, and since I was already there picking up a few letters, I thought I’d save your servants the hassle.”

_You were there this early in the morning?_ He wanted to ask, but figured she had her reasons.  After all, she hadn’t interrogated him when he’d showed up at her house late at night.  He could show her the same courtesy.

“Zuko.”  She was staring at him oddly now.  “Can I…?”

“What?”  

She gestured to his face.  His eyes widened as heat flooded it.  What was she—she said she talked to Yugoda; did she already have—?  But no, she said it was his decision, and he hadn’t—

“You’ve got, uh…”

She swiped a thumb beneath her left eye, and he touched the mirroring spot on his face.  Oh.  Right.  The ink.  Apparently he hadn’t gotten it all off.  Judging by her face, rubbing it with his sleeve wasn’t helping, either.

“Here.”  She bent a small stream from her waterskin, but unlike when she’d fixed his hair the other day, she waited for his nod before approaching.  

Her fingers were cool against his cheek.  Instinctively he leaned into her touch, which lingered a second longer than he’d expected.  Was the ink really _that_ stuck to his face?  Not that he minded, but… Agni, he was going to give himself away at this rate.

He pulled back with a cough.  “Thanks.”

“No problem.”  She looked away.  “Sorry you’ve had such a long morning.”

“I expected it.  Yesterday’s meetings went late; I couldn’t finish everything.  That’s why I didn’t come see you.”  He couldn’t afford to stay up late again with so much going on, and he knew if he found Katara, it would be hard to leave.  “What did Yugoda say?  Do you…?”

Her sigh told him everything.  He tried to hide his relief.  They were running out of time; he _shouldn’t_ feel relieved that she didn’t have the spirit water.  

But maybe… maybe that feeling of relief told him what he should choose.

“She said we’ll have to talk to Chief Arnook.  She doesn’t have the authority to take water from the Oasis herself.  Only council members do.”  She scowled.  “It’s stupid if you ask me, but apparently that’s the rule.”

“That _does_ seem pretty weird.”  If Yugoda was a healer, she should have access to the magic healing water whenever she needed it, right?  But if anything it proved that the spirit water was a bigger deal than he’d thought.

Katara nodded.  “I can talk to Arnook after the meetings today.  I was friends with his daughter, Princess Yue.  I bet if I—”

“No,” he interrupted softly.

“What?”  She looked taken aback, maybe even offended.  No one told Katara no that bluntly—no one did and got away with it, at least.  He’d seen enough arguments between her and Sokka to know that.

“No,” he repeated anyway, his voice firmer.  “I can’t let you do that.”

“You’re not _letting_ me do anything.  I want to help.”  Her voice gained an edge of steel.  “You were willing to accept help from Yugoda.  What’s wrong now?”

He wanted to laugh.  _Everything_ was wrong now.  He didn’t know that he wanted the water at all.  If he never got the water, he never had to make that choice.  He never had to tell Mai that he was within reach of erasing his scars, only to decide that he wanted to keep them.  

That he wanted to stay broken.  

_No, not broken._ Not weak or disgusting, either.  At least not according to the girl staring at him, her gaze unyielding as the surrounding walls of ice.

“I can’t be in debt to the Chief,” he gave an explanation less embarrassing than those thoughts.  “The negotiations have gone well, but I’ve already given too many deals to the Tribe.  Chief Arnook would be a fool not to ask for more in return for the spirit water.  But I can’t offer anything else when our economy is already struggling to recover from the end of the war.  I’m not that selfish.”

“Of course you’re not.”  Katara’s voice softened.  “But what if he gave me the water?  What if you didn’t have to trade anything?”

He shook his head.  “He’d know as soon as my scar disappeared.  Even if I gave up nothing now, I would owe a debt.”

She paused, daring a glance at his middle.  His stomach clenched.

“What if... you only healed the scar no one will see?”

He swore the spot burned at her words.  His hand wanted to check that it was still healed, covered with tough new tissue rather than the smoking mess it had been.  

“I…”  He trailed off.  His eyes dodged hers, and he finally gave into the urge to clutch his hand over his middle.  He breathed a little easier after that, though embarrassment rushed through him.  “I’ll think about it.”

If erasing the scar meant erasing his nervous habit, maybe it would be worth it.  But he wouldn’t get his hopes up.  Somehow the scar, that habit, and Katara had all become tangled in his mind.  If he erased that physical connection to her, would he just go looking for another?

“...Okay,” she said.  “We’ll find another way, Zuko.  I know it.”

He almost wished she wouldn’t.  It was his own fault for suggesting this plan in the first place.  It was supposed to help him get closure and move on.  It was supposed to be easy.

Then again, Katara was supposed to be dating Aang.  He hadn’t counted on getting so close to her again.

“Yeah.  I know we will.  Thanks, Katara.”  He forced a smile.  Even if he didn’t really want the water anymore, her determination warmed him.  Would Mai have been so enthusiastic about getting rid of his scars if she’d had to go through this much effort?

_Now you’re just not being fair,_ he told himself.  Mai had put plenty of effort into their relationship.  She planned most of their dates around his hectic schedule.  She kept a personal eye out for assassination attempts, which had saved him on two accounts.  She stayed in the capitol for him, even if she complained about how boring it was.  She’d betrayed Azula for him.

Shame burned in his chest, and his gaze dropped to the floor.

“I should… probably finish up this contract,” he said with a sigh.  As much as he’d rather spend time with Katara, he knew he shouldn’t.  His feelings were dangerous enough without adding more fuel to the fire.

“Please, Zuko.  You really do look exhausted.  You should rest before the meetings today.”

“Yeah, well, I can’t,” he snapped.  “The contract has to be revised _before_ the meeting.”

“Well… let me help then?”

She looked up at him, her brows tweaked upward with the question.  She really meant it.  Of course she did.  By now he should’ve stopped being surprised, but it still caught him off guard each time.

“No offense, but you can’t really help with this.”  He sighed.  “It has to be approved by the Fire Lord only.”  Otherwise he would’ve had his advisors and scribes do it already, and he would’ve slept in for once in his life.

“Oh.  Um… I guess I’d better leave you to it.”  

She sounded _disappointed._ Like she actually wanted to read boring legal documents.  

“Wait,” he found himself saying.  “Uh.  You can’t help with this but… would you mind making some tea?”

“Tea?”  She echoed.

“Yeah.  Uh, if that’s okay!  I just, your tea was good the other night, and, uh, it might help me… stay awake.”  

_And I’m pathetic and want you to stay,_ he might as well have said out loud.  It was written all over his voice.  He should be keeping his distance, trying to pull out the emotions that dug their roots into the tough tissue of his scar.

But the more he thought about it, the more stupid that seemed.  No matter what other feelings he had, Katara was his friend, and he wouldn’t, _couldn’t_ give that up.  Not when she treated him like an equal, and cared about his problems, and wanted to help him.

Besides, they were leaving in a few days.  A few days here, then one more week on the ship, and then she’d be disappearing on Appa’s back.  There would be plenty of time to uproot his traitorous feelings she was continents away.

“The lavender tea I made before is better for sleep,” she said, already crossing his room to find a kettle.  “You have any other kind I could make?”

“Ginseng.”  He pointed to a trunk near the bed.  “It’s Uncle’s favorite.”

The room wasn’t a hut like hers, so there wasn’t a fireplace.  Distinguished guests weren’t exactly expected to make their own tea.  But they knew how to improvise: Katara bent a pit in the thick ice floor, and Zuko created a small flame that flickered inside it.  Katara would have to focus to keep the ice from melting, but she assured him it wouldn’t be difficult.

Then he didn’t have the luxury of watching her, because he really did have to finish revising the contract.  He settled back into his chair and slipped into work mode.  Thanks to the short break he’d taken, focusing was much easier.  The characters actually looked solid rather than swimming across the page.

By the time the earthy scent wafted over, he’d reviewed four pages of the document—a new record.  Maybe having someone else around to keep him from drifting off wasn’t such a terrible idea after all.

“Your tea, your highness.”

He looked up to where she leaned against his desk as she set down the steaming cup.  She’d shed her parka at some point, leaving her in her usual blue tunic and a teasing grin.

“Ha, ha.”  He rolled his eyes.  “Please don’t call me that.”

She sobered up.  “Does it bother you?  I thought you’d be used to it by now.”

He wasn’t, because “your highness” wasn’t the proper address for the Fire Lord, but pointing that out would only make her tease him more.

“Not from you,” he said, realizing why the joking comment rubbed him the wrong way.  “You’re my friend, Katara.  I don’t have to be the Fire Lord around you.”

“Except when you have to do paperwork,” she pointed to the contract, and he sighed heavily.

“Except that.”  He took a long drink of tea.  It wasn’t as hot as he expected—maybe she’d cooled it already.  The small but thoughtful act warmed him more than the tea.

“I get what you mean, though.  Do you… do you get lonely, being the Fire Lord?”

He looked up in surprise.  “Lonely?”

“Nevermind,” she said quickly, but his heart was still racing.  How did she know?  Was it that obvious?

“No, it’s okay.  I… yeah.”  He stared down into his teacup.  “I chased my destiny of becoming Fire Lord for so long.  I should be grateful.  A little loneliness shouldn’t be much of a sacrifice after everything we went through to get here.”

“But it still _is_ a sacrifice.”  She rested her hand on his shoulder.  “I don’t know what it’s like, of course, but I bet being royalty again feels pretty different than when you were with us.”

“Yeah.  You could say that.”  He took another sip without noticing the flavor.

“Zuko, if I knew you were feeling this way…”  She bit her lip before blurting, “We need to visit you more.”

“You’d do that—?  No, you can’t.”  He shook his head.  “You’ve got important things to do, with Aang.  You can’t just drop the Avatar stuff for me.”

He wished she could.  Oh Agni, he wished.

She put her hands on her hips.  “In case you didn’t know, _you’re_ an ‘important thing’ too.”

“Katara—”

“You _are.”_ She stared him down, daring him to argue.  “And you’re our friend.  If we want to come see you, good luck trying to stop us.”

His eyes darted to where she’d melted through his wall earlier.  Yeah, she could get to him no matter where he was.  

Not that he could ever put up much of a fight.

“Alright, alright.  Plan the vacation trips _after_ we get the work done.”

He adjusted the papers in front of him and tried to listen to his own advice.  It was difficult to focus on the last few pages when daydreams of them on the beach at Ember Island kept coming to mind.  Sparring with her, swimming, just relaxing and talking… and the rest of their friends would be there, of course.  He missed them too.  Maybe this time they’d finally have the beach party they’d wanted before the comet…

_I’ll need to bring Mai, too,_ he thought with a pang of guilt.  How could he have ignored her in his imaginary plans?  

Only Mai didn’t care for the beach at all.  She’d made that clear last time.  Just thinking about that day made him want Toph to drop him in a pit of earth and seal it up.  Not just because of his fight with Mai, but because he’d been such a stupid, insecure, angry _idiot._   

But against all odds, Mai had taken him back anyway.  He would repay her by making sure their vacation went better this time—if he could focus on his responsibilities long enough to afford one _._ He took a calming breath, threw back the last gulp of his tea, and went to work.  

He was almost, _almost_ done when Katara’s gasp startled him.

“What?”  His head jerked up; his brush nearly smeared across the last page.  But she was just sitting back against the wall, staring at a scroll in her hand.

“I can’t believe it!”  A grin filled her entire face.  That combined with the red tinge in her cheeks was so distracting he almost missed her next words.  “They found Sokka’s space sword!”

“Wait, they _what?”_

Of course, Zuko remembered the space sword—Sokka had sparred against him with it plenty of times, and when they weren’t doing that, the other boy was often polishing it, or cooing at it in much the same way he did his boomerang.  As weird as that had been, Zuko had sympathized when he heard Sokka lost the sword during during the comet.

“Who found it?”  He asked, dropping his brush back into the ink and turning in his chair to face her.

“Aang and Toph.”  Her eyes stayed on the scroll, darting back and forth across it.  “Aang says they’re in the area helping calm some restless spirits—because of all the fire damage I guess—and Toph felt it.  Sokka’s going to be thrilled!”

Zuko laughed at the image of Sokka being reunited with his long-lost sword.  Suki might be jealous.  

“That’s great news—but wait, what was that about restless spirits?”

Katara kept scanning the letter, her lips pursed.  “It sounds like what happened with Hei Bai… forest spirits must have been displaced or enraged when Ozai torched the Earth Kingdom.  We’ve been so focused on helping cities recover, I never even thought about the spirits.  But the Avatar _is_ the bridge between worlds.  I hope he’s doing alright…”

Zuko left his chair to crouch beside her by the fire.  The makeshift pit had melted a bit while Katara had gotten caught up in the letter.  He quelled the flames to compensate.

“Do you mind if I read what he said?”  He asked.  Even if he couldn’t do much in the Earth Kingdom, fixing his father’s mistakes felt like his responsibility.  He’d never considered that the repercussions would extend even to the spirit world.

“Huh?  Oh, um, yeah… just ignore Aang’s, well…”  Katara’s face flushed brighter as she fumbled the scroll into his hands.

He raised an eyebrow and started reading.  

Did she want him to ignore was the twenty or so hearts scribbled around the edges of the scroll?  Or maybe the way Aang wrote “LOVE” at the end as one giant character _also_ stylized into a heart?  Or the times he asked “ _how long are you going to be gone_ , _are you almost done_ , _I miss you”_?

Zuko tried to bite back his annoyance.  Aang got to see Katara all the time _;_ Zuko only got to be with her for a few weeks.  It was ridiculous to feel jealous of his friend for that, but for a moment all he could hear was Aang’s voice, _“Katara’s_ my _girl.”_ Flames could so easily catch from his fingertips and devour the parchment.

He swallowed and steadied his breathing again.  It was just a stupid letter.  From a boy that Katara didn’t even like that way.  Not that it was his business who she liked.

“...He is laying it on pretty thick, huh?”  He eventually said.

Katara groaned and dropped her head in her hands.  “ _Please,_ just ignore it.”

It was easier said than done, but he did.  The actual contents of the letter weren’t as mushy as the... “decorative” details made them look.  Aang and Toph really sounded like they were doing good work—Aang pacifying spirits, Toph rebuilding nearby towns with earthbending.   And of course, finding Sokka’s sword.  Which, in Aang’s words, “ _you CAN’T TELL SOKKA!!  Toph and I want to surprise him when we go visit Kyoshi.”_

Zuko’s heart softened a little at that.  “He really is a good kid,” he mumbled under his breath.  

“I know.  He’s just— _ugh._ That’s what makes it worse,” Katara said through her fingers.  “He doesn’t mean anything bad by it.”

“But it’s still uncomfortable for you,” he guessed.  It was somewhat of a relief that she would talk about this with him; at least it meant she probably hadn’t noticed his own feelings.  He would feel horrible if he caused Katara the same kind of discomfort Aang currently was.

She lifted her head and nodded.  “It’ll be okay, though.  When I get back… I’m going to tell him I don’t see him that way.”

She still looked nervous.  More nervous than Zuko expected from someone as confident and self-assured as her.  He should offer some words of comfort, but what could he say?  It wasn’t like he was an expert at ending nonexistent relationships.  The last time he’d turned someone down, it was by literally running away after kissing Jin.  But Zuko had only seen her afterwards during her infrequent visits to the tea shop. Katara would have to see Aang every day.

“Oh.  Uh.  Good luck,” he offered weakly.  “Not that you’ll need it.  Aang—if he really cares about you, he’ll understand.”

There, that was better.  And it was true… he hoped.  Aang hadn’t exactly been understanding when he’d lied to Zuko about dating Katara, but that was after that awful play, when they were all tired and hurt.  Surely Aang was a good enough friend to respect Katara’s boundaries now.  If not… well, between himself and Sokka, he was sure they could set their younger friend straight.

Katara smiled a little.  “Thanks.  Sorry for dumping that on you.  Again.  When you need to be working on the trade contract...”

“It’s no big deal,” he said quickly, even though he _was_ running out of time to finish his revisions.  By the pink light filtering through the window, he thought he might have almost an hour before he needed to deliver it to the scribes.  

Still, he’d walked out on Katara on the ship when she’d tried to vent her frustrations about Aang’s crush.  Now that he wasn’t in danger of setting anything on fire—probably—the least he could do was listen.

“I’ll stop distracting you now.  Promise.”  She reached to take the scroll from him, but stopped and frowned.

“What?”

“There’s another note on the back,” she said, flipping the scroll in his hands.

Sure enough, a few sentences were scribbled on the back near the bottom.  For a moment he was afraid he was going to catch a more blatant love confession (as if all the hearts had been subtle), but while it was still in Aang’s handwriting, it was signed “Toph” at the end.  His eyes skimmed the message before Katara could tug back the scroll.

_I hope Aang didn’t write you anything TOO stupid. (Toph said I have to write that and she’ll know if I’m lying)  We’re both doing fine, so get your panties out of a twist and enjoy your vacation Sugarqueen.  Tell Zuko I said hi.  Oh and bring us back a souvenir!  —Toph._

Katara’s face was red as she tightly rolled the letter.  “Um, Toph says hi.”

A grin tugged at his lips.  He missed the little earthbender so much.  

“Tell her hi back for me.”

“Of course.”  Katara’s embarrassment seemed to subside.  “Can I borrow some paper?”

“As long as you also tell Aang to do a hundred fire fists and twenty sets of hot squats.  If he has time to write love letters, he has time to train.”

Katara smirked.  “You know, normally I’d say you’re being too tough on him, but in this case I’ll allow it.”  

Maybe using “training” as retaliation was childish.  But not as childish as Aang lying to him about dating Katara, so he felt it was justified.

He gathered some writing supplies for her and spread them on the opposite side of his desk.  Unfortunately there wasn’t another chair in his room, but before he could offer his own, she just dragged his trunk over and sat down.  He let the flames in the corner of the room die and then settled back to work.

Thankfully, the rest of the trade document was nearly perfect.  After making a few last adjustments—mostly adjusting the tone to be less demanding—he blew on the ink to dry it and rolled the sheets back into a scroll case.  A scribe would take care of copying the edits onto fresh set of pages.  Though it wasn’t due for another half hour, he should really deliver the contract now so they would have plenty of time to transcribe it. Katara was still working on her letter, though; he didn’t want to interrupt her.

“I’ll be right back.  I’m just going to take this down the hall,” he told her, deciding it would be better to take it now than risk a scribe or servant coming to his room for it.  He hadn’t even thought of how he’d explain Katara’s presence if that happened.

She nodded, still absorbed in writing back to Aang.  By the time he slipped from the room, located the scribes’ makeshift office, dodged the questioning glances at his sleeping robes, and returned, Katara was gently blowing on her letter to dry the ink.  He relaxed at the sight; he’d half expected her to leave before he got back.  Or for a servant to stumble in and jump to wild, incorrect conclusions.

Yeah, he really should have considered that _before_ letting her walk through his wall.  He must have used up all his critical thinking on the trade contract.

“Anything else you wanted me to add before I seal it up?”  Katara asked him as he dropped back into the chair across from her.

He couldn’t exactly have her call Aang out on lying to him, so he shook his head.  She rolled the paper inside the scroll case she’d taken the original letter from.

“That reminds me…”  He’d been too preoccupied with his work before, but now he had time to pull the dark metal scroll case from his pocket.  Who would be sending him a personal letter?  At first he suspected Uncle, but the case lacked his traditional dragon seal.

He unclasped the top of the tube and unrolled the delicate paper.  The brushstrokes were neat and controlled, in complete contrast to Aang’s sprawling handwriting.  His eyes widened at the name signed at the bottom.

Katara leaned forward.  “What is it?  Is everything okay?”

“Everything’s fine,” he said too quickly, his throat suddenly dry.  “I just... wasn’t expecting Mai to write me, that’s all.” 

It wasn’t like he’d been gone long.  And it wasn’t like Mai to make idle conversation while he was home, much less while he was away.  Whatever she had written was likely serious.   

“Oh.  That’s—that’s great,” Katara said too brightly.  Was his nervousness was so obvious that she felt the need to reassure him?

“Yeah.  It is.”  He kept his voice even, but he couldn’t help thinking it couldn’t be good, much less _great_.  Mai wouldn’t bother to write if it were good news, would she?

“How is she doing?”

He bit the inside of his cheek before he could wince.  How _was_ Mai doing?  He’d barely bothered to wonder since embarking on this trip.  He really was a lousy excuse for a boyfriend.  Shouldn’t he have thought of her at least a little, in some way that wasn’t connected to feeling guilty about feelings for Katara?

“Your guess is as good as mine,” he sighed.  His hand splayed to cover the page, keeping Mai’s words out of sight.  That was one thing Katara wouldn’t be able to help with, even if she wanted to.  

“I should probably let you find out, then,” she said, one hand gripping her upper arm.  “Do you mind if I take some paper with me?  I got a letter from Sokka too and I haven’t written him back yet.”

“Of course.”  He pulled some blank sheets of parchment from his desk drawer, cursing the way his heart fell.  It wasn’t like she could just hang out in his room anyway.  He had meetings in a few hours, and while she wasn’t invited to today’s smaller session, she surely had plans as well.  

She turned aside to shrug on her parka and said, “Tell Mai hello from me.”

His throat tightened.  “Sure,” he lied.  The only way he would write that would be if he really had a death wish.

“And get some rest before the meeting, okay?  You pushed yourself pretty hard this morning.”

“Yeah.”  He nodded even though her back was still to him.  “I will.”

After that, she swept her arm in a graceful arc and liquified the wall.  Then she was gone as quickly and unexpectedly as she’d come.

He sighed and slumped back in his chair.  As nice as rest sounded, it would at least have to wait until after he’d dealt with this letter.

_Please, please don’t be rumors of another upcoming assassination attempt,_ he prayed to whatever spirit would listen.  Then he moved his hand to read Mai’s words.

_Dear Zuko,_

_It’s boring here without you.  I almost wish I went to the North Pole too, but it’s not like I was invited or anything.  I bet it’s too cold to be interesting anyway._

_Your uncle wants to teach me to play Pai Sho.  I thought he would be busy in your absence, but he says he’s never too busy for, I quote, “a thrilling game with his nephew’s lady friend.”  Pass._

_How are the trade negotiations progressing?  What do a bunch of Water Tribe peasants have that the Fire Nation needs?  Besides their magic water, anyway._

_I hope you got what you needed.  It would be pretty disappointing if you went all that way with her for nothing._

_Don’t do anything stupid._

_Love,_

_Mai_

He barely skimmed the end of the letter.  Flames were already licking his face as he exhaled, barely held back by his careful breath control.  In the moment, he’d rather have had news of assassins than—than _this._

The thinly veiled insult didn’t matter.  Even the jabs at “Water Tribe peasants” he could almost overlook.  But complaining about _Uncle?_ Who was probably just trying to keep her from being bored when Zuko was gone?  Uncle, who _was_ busy, but had gone _out of his way_ to try to get to know her anyway?  How could she be so rude to him?  How could she— 

_She sounds just like me._

His skin went cold at the realization.  That was him, just a few months ago: yelling at Uncle, thinking everyone who wasn’t Fire Nation royalty was a worthless peasant, generally hating the world.  

But he _didn’t_ hate the world anymore.

Suddenly it was obvious.  So, so _obvious,_ and he’d been too desperate to see it.  He’d been so happy Mai didn’t hate him when she returned, and too guilty over getting her imprisoned in the first place.  He’d thought his honor demanded he make it up to her.  

But he was done pretending to be someone he wasn’t.  Clearly, she thought he was still the Zuko he was before, when he had tried so hard to be his father’s son.  When the scar on his face was still a mark of shame and the scar under his chest didn’t yet exist.

Even if he never had a chance with Katara, even if it meant he would be even lonelier than before, he couldn’t stay with Mai.  She was in love with someone who no longer existed.

While the revelation was still fresh in his mind, he slapped down a new sheet of parchment from his drawer and grabbed his brush.  Dots of ink splattered across the blank page, but he ignored them as he channeled his emotions into words.

_Mai,_

_Treat my uncle with respect.  He’s done more for me and for our country than you will ever know.  He’s made me everything I am.  But you wouldn’t know that.  You still think I’m the idiot who got jealous and stormed out of the party on Ember Island.  You don’t have any idea what I’ve been through, because you never ask!  You’re so bored, but you never DO anything about it! I can’t_

His hand clenched around the brush before he threw it back into the ink.  For all that he said he’d changed, he _was_ still being an idiot.

No matter how good it felt to vent some of the emotions that had been buried under his guilt, he couldn’t send this.  Even if he and Mai weren’t right for each other, screaming at her in a letter was not the appropriate way to explain that.  And that was ignoring the fact that if he broke up with her in a letter _again,_ she would probably kill him.

Fire shot from his nose as he crumpled the unfinished letter.  Then, just because he could, he caught it on fire.  The smoke danced against the light of the rising sun.

His jaw unclenched at the soothing sight.  Maybe he couldn’t break up with Mai in a letter, but when he got home, he _would_ tell her how he felt.

He almost laughed at the irony.  He’d just been thinking how he didn’t have any rejection advice for Katara.  Now he was going to have to break up with the only girlfriend he’d ever had, and this time, he couldn’t run away afterwards.

He stood, flopped on his bed, and curled his fingers over his sunburst scar.  Even though the thought of breaking up with her terrified him—for more reasons than one—at least he had one less thing to worry about.  It wouldn’t matter what Mai thought of his scars anymore.

In spite of everything, he smiled.


	4. belong to no one

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alright, this might be a little disappointing to those who were expecting more Zutara shenanigans this chapter, but this one is from Toph’s POV—A throwback to the day that Aang sent the letter Katara got in the previous chapter C:  Originally this was going to be paired with a Mai or Iroh POV, but that will have to come later, because reasons.  Next chapter is half written and will be back to Zuko and Katara’s POV though!
> 
> Thanks to SomeSamuraiDude for checking over Aang’s character in this, and thanks to everyone for all of the reviews and comments so far as well! :D
> 
> Oh, and there's some mild one-sided Taang in here, just warning in advance in case that bothers anyone

 

_~we don’t belong to no one, that’s a shame~_

Toph reclined against Appa’s leg and lazily flicked her fingers.  The space sword twirled over her head in a way that probably looked amazing and deadly.  Too bad there was no one around to appreciate it, since their camp was in the middle of a clearing a little ways outside of town, where Appa had plenty of room to spread out.

More swords should be made out of space rocks.  The material was still strong enough to be useful, but easier to earthbend than metal.  It didn’t make a lot of sense, but she didn’t question it too much.

She heard the faint whistle of Aang’s glider and snapped her wrist down, plunging the sword into the ground.  “ _Finally_.  What took you so long, Twinkletoes?”

Appa rumbled when Aang flopped back onto the leg next to her.

“Sorry.  They’re not used to sending messenger hawks all the way to the North Pole from here.  The hawker had to feed the bird _two_ treats before she’d take the letter.”

“Smart bird.  No one could pay me enough to go to a frozen wasteland like that.”  She shivered even though the sun was warm on her face.  Her feet would _freeze_ in a place built out of ice, not to mention she wouldn’t be able to see.  Sugarqueen was crazy for wanting to go back there, even if it was mostly an excuse for her to escape Aang’s increasingly weird flirting rituals.  

Speaking of...

“You didn’t write anything stupid on the letter after you left, did you?”  Toph asked.

“Of course not!  I just... made it a little bit prettier.”  Aang said.  From where he was laying on Appa, it was impossible to get a read on his heartbeat.  But Twinkletoes was never that good at lying anyway.

“Prettier.”  Toph never understood what that meant.  Not in the way that Aang meant it, anyway.

“Yeah!”  Aang went on, ignoring her deadpan tone.  “Since Katara’s a girl and girls like pretty things, right?”

Toph sighed, blowing her bangs out of her face.  Spinning Sokka’s sword around again was sounding pretty tempting right now.

“Wouldn’t know, really, since I can’t see them.”

“Oh.”  She could hear the frown in Aang’s voice.  “But you can see with your feet.  Maybe you can’t see what I drew on the letter, but there’s other stuff that’s pretty to you, right?”

He had a point.  Pretty was the solid earth beneath her feet.  Pretty was a rough stone, its edges worn away by years of wind.  Pretty was the _crunch_ of a boulder hitting its intended target.  But none of those things could be stamped onto a flat sheet of paper.

“I guess,” she mumbled.  “So just what _did_ you draw for Sugarqueen?”

“Oh, just some hearts and stuff.”  She heard the soft _shfff-shfff_ of his shrug through Appa’s fur.  “I saw some on the fancy stationary at the hawkery and thought it would give it a nice touch.”

...He was being serious, wasn’t he.  Toph wished she could just pound the truth into him the way she taught him earthbending.  Why couldn’t feelings be as easy to bend as metal?

She frowned at that thought.  The greatest earthbender in the world could handle something as stupid as a few feelings.  And she’d handle them the way an earth bender should: by facing them head-on.

She stood up and dug her toes firmly into the ground.

“We need to talk, Twinkletoes.”

Aang jumped up and lighted back on the ground in front of her.  Good, it was better to get this out when she could feel his heartbeat.  His steady pulse quickened.

“Why?  What’s wrong?  Were hearts a bad idea?  Monkeyfeathers, I knew I should’ve gone with flowers—”

“This isn’t about flowers!”  Toph stomped.  That wasn’t strictly necessary, but it seemed to get Aang’s attention.  He went silent, at least.  “Look, I haven’t told you this before because Sweetness is always around.”  

And because for all her teasing, she didn’t want to _actually_ get involved in Aang’s crush on Katara.  It would be better for both of them if they sorted it out between themselves—or even better, Aang just _used his brain_ and realized Sweetness wasn’t that into him.  But Aang was too good at ignoring facts he didn’t like, and Katara seemed to have an endless supply of patience when it came to him.  Toph wouldn’t hold her breath.

“...What haven’t you told me?”  Aang asked warily.

“That Katara—”  Toph grit her teeth, grinding the earth beneath her foot to dust.  This was going to hurt him a lot.  Plus Katara might not appreciate Toph sticking her nose in her business—though it _would_ be some pretty good payback for all the times Sweetness had done the same to her.

“Katara what?”  He jumped in too eagerly.  It wasn’t fair, but Toph was used to that.  Sokka liked Suki.  Aang liked Katara.  It wasn’t like the boys could bend their feelings any more than Toph could change her own.

That didn’t mean it didn’t hurt.

_She doesn’t like you!_ Toph wanted to shout.  But no one had done that to her when she’d had a crush on Sokka.  Maybe head-on _wasn’t_ the best approach this time.

“She… look, Twinkletoes, what makes you think Sweetness _wants_ a letter with hearts on it?”

“I told you why.  Girls like pretty things.”  He fidgeted with his hands.  “And I thought it would be… nice.  Um.  Romantic.  We’re never usually apart so I haven’t gotten to try writing her a letter before…”

“ _That’s_ your problem.” Toph waved a hand in exasperation.  “ _You_ thought it would be nice.  Did you ever think about what Katara thought?”

“I—”  He paused.  His heartbeat was jumping more than she’d expected from such a simple question.  “I just—well…”

He sat on the ground and pulled his knees to his chest.  “You think she’ll hate it, don’t you?”

Toph’s stomach lurched at Aang’s quick change of attitude.  “No.  I don’t think she’ll hate it.”

“Then why—”

“Because you _don’t know,_ Aang.”

Though she couldn’t confirm it, she got the feeling he was staring at her.  She took a deep breath and dropped into a crouch next to him.

“I know you think you love Katara—”

“I _do_ love her,” he asserted.  Toph tried not to scowl.  Might have scowled a little.

“—But have you ever asked what _she_ wants?”

Aang was quiet.  Good.  She hoped that meant he was thinking.

“You wanted me as an earthbending teacher because I know how to wait and listen.”  She dug her fingers into the dirt, trailing thin furrows.  “I’m just trying to help you understand.  You need to listen to more than just the earth.”

“I… I do listen to Katara…”

“Do you?”

She felt him flinch.

“She knows that you like her,” Toph forced herself to continue.  “So tell me.  Has she said _anything_ that makes you think she likes you back?”

“Toph…” His voice cracked.  But he _needed_ to hear this.  Katara was too soft on him, and Sokka and Zuko weren’t around anymore.  Toph was the only one who could give him the tough love he needed.

“Answer the question, Aang.”

“One time she said we could kiss so we wouldn’t die!” 

She stared blankly in his general direction.

“Okay, that’s a bad example, but—she might!  What makes you think she _doesn’t_ like me?”

_Because I might be blind, but I still pay attention!_ She barely bit back the words.

“I’m just saying.  Think about it.”  She stood and jerked her wrist upwards, drawing the space sword from the ground.  Twirling it in the air beside her distracted her from wanting to smack her friend upside the head.  “Sweetness wears her heart on her sleeve.  If she was into you, she would’ve let you know by now.”

“You don’t know that.  She might just… still be confused.”

“Confused?”  Toph snorted.  “Are we thinking of the same Sugarqueen?”

“Stop it!”  Aang stood and shouted, like a real earthbender.  It was hard not to feel proud even when his frustration was directed at her.  “Why are you saying all this?”

The sword wavered in its twirl.  Toph had to be careful not to bend the blade’s structure.  Sokka wouldn’t appreciate getting his sword back just to find his careful forging ruined.

But she was the greatest earthbender in the world.  She could control the sword, and she could control herself.

“Because I care about you, Aang.  You might think this hurts now, but would you rather hear it from me or from her?”

He let out a quiet sigh.  “You really don’t think I have a chance.”

“Honestly?  No.”

Soft but quick footsteps paced in front of her.  “This isn’t fair!  Katara and I have been through so much together—”

“Life isn’t fair, Twinkletoes.”  She stabbed the sword back into the ground, and his footsteps stopped.  “You can’t control how other people feel.”

“You’re trying to control how I feel right now,” he pouted.  She frowned; _why_ did she like this boy again?

Because he could see the good in everything, because he made her laugh, because they had fun together.  Because he respected her and had never looked at her like a weak little girl.  Because when he wasn’t hung up over Katara, he could actually be pretty sweet.

_That_ was why she really wanted to help him.  This possessive, stubborn boy wasn’t the Aang she knew.  He could be so much better than this.

“I’m not trying to control you.  Believe me, I _hate_ feeling controlled.”  She pointed a finger in his direction.  “You have to control how _you_ feel.  It stinks, but you can do it.  I know you can.”

“So you want me to—what, just let go of my feelings for Katara?”  Aang balked.  “I tried that!  That’s what Guru Pathik wanted me to do to unlock my chakra, but it didn’t work!”

Toph shrugged.  “Then try again.”

“You don’t get it!  This isn’t like earthbending!  Sometimes you can’t just be stubborn and force everything to work out!”

His breathing was thrown off when she grinned.  Maybe he was right about one thing—this _wasn’t_ like earthbending.  At least, not in the standing-your-ground kind of way.

“What about airbending?”  She asked instead.  “Isn’t ‘letting go’ kind of the whole thing?  It’s not trying to _force_ anything.”

Aang toed at the ground.  “I guess I’m not good at that, either.”

By now he just sounded resigned.  Toph was surprised by the change—she’d expected to cling to his crush a lot harder.  Maybe he trusted her judgement more than she’d realized.

He sniffed; she heard him wipe his arm across his nose.  Oh no.  Was he—crying?  Toph tensed at the thought.  She wasn’t great at the whole comforting thing.  That was what Katara was for.  But even if Katara was here, she wouldn’t be much help with this.

“Hey.”  She cautiously reached out a hand.  Not a fist.  

Aang met her halfway, squeezing her palm.  His hand was rough and warm and _not_ going to make her go soft on him.

“Maybe—maybe you can’t let go of your feelings,” she started again.  After all, her feelings for Sokka had faded over time, rather than from her own choice.  And her feelings for Aang… were still complicated.

“Then what am I supposed to do?” He asked miserably. “If you’re right and Katara… doesn’t feel the same way I do?”

“I guess you just…  Wait.  Wait and listen.”  She held his hand a little tighter.  “If you can’t let go of your feelings, at least don’t let them control you.”

He was silent.  His pulse still raced against her palm.  She’d expected him to let go by now; her hand was starting to sweat.

“What are you thinking, Twinkletoes?”

His sigh was so deep, it ruffled the front of her tunic.  “I was just thinking you’re probably right.  If I would’ve listened before I kissed Katara… I was so _stupid!”_

Toph’s stomach flopped.  “You—wait, you kissed her?  What did she say?”

Aang dropped her hand and fiddled with his robe.  “Well, uh… she told me she was confused and then kind of yelled at me and left.”  The words all came out in one breath.

Toph smacked her forehead.  “So _that’s_ why she was so excited to leave.”

“Huh?  Ohh… I don’t think so.  It’s been… five months?  It was before the comet…”

He was messing with her.  He _had_ to be kidding.

“You’re telling me you kissed her _five months ago,_ she was mad at you, and you _still_ thought it was a good idea to keep hitting on her?”

“Okay, okay!  I get it!  I was stupid!”  He flopped back against Appa’s side, and the bison whuffed.  “Sorry, buddy.”  She heard him pet Appa softly.

“You said it, not me.”  She shrugged and leaned into Appa’s fur too.  The scent of dirt and general Appa-smell surrounded her.

“She never brought it up again,” Aang said quietly enough that she didn’t know if it was directed at her.  “I thought maybe she’d forget about it.  Or if I did enough nice stuff, I could make it up to her.”

Toph snorted.  Katara could hold a grudge longer than anyone she knew.  Most likely, that kiss and all Aang’s attempts to get on her good side were still festering inside her.  Especially since Aang didn’t always consider the difference between what _he_ thought was nice and what Katara would actually like.  Buying her expensive flowers (which they had nowhere to keep), showing off his new airbending tricks in front of her, trying to go swimming with her when she just wanted some time alone—those were just a few of Aang’s more recent misguided attempts.

“I don’t think Sweetness wants you to do anything special.  You know how much she likes to talk.  She probably just wants you to listen to her.”

“Oh… so you think that would make her like me?”

Toph dropped her hand over her face.  “You’re hopeless, Twinkletoes.”

“It was worth a try,” he mumbled and shifted against Appa.  “I’ll think about what you said though.  About not letting my feelings control me.”

“You’ve got the stuff, Twinkletoes.  You can do it.”  She stood and began earthbending their supplies—and Sokka’s sword—into a pile.  Sending the letter had been the last piece of business in this town.  There were other places along the Earth Kingdom coast that still needed rebuilding.

“Thanks, Toph.” Aang reached out and squeezed her hand once.  It was something he’d started doing somewhere along the way—his way of telling her he was smiling, he’d said.

She punched his arm, and he laughed.  That was her way of smiling back.

 


	5. life is more than who we are

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It feels like it’s been Years, but this update is extra long to make up for it
> 
> This chapter title isn’t the most fitting (though I could explain my vague reasoning behind it) but that’s what I get for coming up with an intricate naming scheme when I thought this would be 3 chapters and then realizing it will probably be 10

_~don’t it make you sad to know that life, is more than who we are~_

Katara couldn’t believe it.  Her newest plan had half-worked—they’d actually let her in.  She was in the Spirit Oasis, kneeling before the pool where Tui and La swam in their endless circle.

But any time her hands reached close enough to discreetly bend a few drops into her empty waterskin, one of her guards would cough pointedly.

“Yeah, I wouldn’t do that if I were you.” Nalluk, a lanky boy just a few years older than her, scratched his head with his spear.

Katara dropped her arm, severing her connection to the water.  She was _so close,_ and all that held her back were a couple of—dumb— _boys!_

“Do what?”  She asked with feigned innocence.  Why couldn’t her two guards be as oblivious as Sokka?  Okay, so Sokka wasn’t _always_ oblivious, but Katara had enough experience sneaking around him when she wanted to.

Nalluk just raised an eyebrow.  “Hey, if you want to bring the wrath of the spirits down on yourself, it’s your own funeral.  But Lunn and I _really_ don’t want to be collateral damage.  Right, Lunn?”

Lunn, the broader and older of the two guards, just grunted.  His steel blue eyes never left Katara’s.  She made a show of glaring back before she realized the posturing wasn’t worth it.

“The spirits would understand,” she muttered under her breath.  Either Nalluk didn’t hear her, or he chose not to care.

The spirits _would_ understand, she was sure of it.  Yue would, at least.  La… didn’t exactly seem like the understanding type.  She remembered Aang fusing with the spirit, the rising tide, the monster unlike anything Katara had seen before or since.  She remembered it wiping out every Fire Nation soldier and ship in its path.

...Maybe Nalluk had a point.  

Well, if she couldn’t take the spirit water ( _yet—_ because she wasn’t going to give up, she just needed time to brainstorm another plan), she would at least follow through on her other mission.

“Sokka says hi.  He wishes he could be here himself,” Katara whispered to the white fish as it swam in its—her?—endless circle.  “I’m sure you’d rather see him than me.”

The fish said nothing.  No spirits descended around her.  Between the unnaturally warm air and the waxing moon shining down, the distance between the physical and the spirit world felt blurred; she’d half expected Yue to answer somehow.  Katara would just have to hope she was listening.

“He’s been doing really well.  He still misses you a lot, but he’s healing.”  Under most circumstances it would be a bad idea to tell her brother’s ex-girlfriend that he was moving on, but she felt Yue would understand, being a benevolent spirit and all.  “He had something he wanted me to give you.  I hope that will be okay.”

She looked over her shoulder at Nalluk, who nodded.  Offerings to the ocean and moon spirits were allowed, but the kind she was giving on Sokka’s behalf was… unusual.

When it had first tumbled out of the scroll case, she’d thought the small carving was a bear, but Sokka’s letter described it as a fish.  Apparently it was another attempt at the first present he’d given Yue.  Clearly, his artistic abilities hadn’t improved as much as his warrior skills in the past year.

_I just want her to know that I still care about her,_ his letter had said.  _And I want to ask her blessing in moving on.  I loved Yue, but I also love Suki.  I hope I’ll always love her._

_I’m going to ask Suki to marry me._

(Katara had nearly dropped the letter when she read that.  Of course she was happy for her brother but—it was so hard to imagine.  He was her older brother, but still she hadn’t expected him to grow up so _fast._ )

_Not NOW now but soon, I hope._

(Whew. That was comforting.  Katara had better get to at least _see_ him again before he got himself engaged.  If only so she could warn Suki what she was getting into.)

_You probably think I’m crazy, but I promise, I’ve thought this through.  We’re both sixteen now, and that’s old enough to be engaged on Kyoshi too.  I know we’re still young, but if there’s one thing I learned from Yue, it’s that you never know how much time you have.  I don’t want to miss out on what I have with Suki because I waited too long.  And after everything we went through together—fighting Ozai’s airships during the comet… I almost lost her, Katara.  I thought I did for a few minutes and I can’t even describe it.  It was like losing Yue all over again, only emptier and_

(The rest of the line was scratched out with so much ink, Katara had no idea what Sokka had written.  Probably something horribly sad, but sweet and embarrassing at the same time.  Spirits, she wished they could have this conversation in person.  She’s missed him so so much.)

_The point is, I knew from the moment she came back on that airship, I want it to be her._

(Katara had _awwwww_ ed out loud when she first read that.  Sokka could be such a softie sometimes.)

(And try as she might, she couldn’t help thinking about what she’d done during the comet.  Who she’d almost lost.  Who she wanted—who she couldn’t have.)

_You probably don’t care about your older brother’s love life… So how’s yours?_

(She could picture the stupid teasing grin on his face.  She would’ve shoved him for that in person, and the fact that she couldn’t hurt more than anything.)

(But she still wouldn’t dignify that question with an answer.)

_Work is going good.  The Mechanist has already paid me for the plans I sent him (after Suki helped me with the drawing part).  I almost have enough money to settle down here.  That doesn’t mean we can’t still go on vacations though!  If you and Aang and Toph or even Zuko ever need me, team Fan and Sword is ready for action!_

(She would hold him to that.  Sokka would be down for Operation Cheer Up Zuko, she was sure, and then she would have an excuse to see all of her favorite people in one place again.)

_But about Yue!  I want her blessing before I ask Suki.  We both talked about this—I mean, Suki doesn’t know I’m going to ask her to marry me, but she knows I’m sending a message to Yue.  She gets it.  Well I mean she can’t GET get it, like who else has a girlfriend that turned into the moon?  You know what I mean._

(Katara had laughed at Sokka’s rambling.  Even on paper it was just so _him.)_

_I wish I could see Yue myself.  I talk to her at night sometimes, and I think she listens.  I told her you’re coming to the North Pole.  If you give her this, I hope she’ll understand._

There had been more to the letter, which was Sokka’s longest yet, but this was the part that led to Katara kneeling in front of the pool, holding a white carving of a fish-bear out to two all-powerful spirits.

She waited a moment longer before clearing her throat.  “Well… here goes.”

She dropped the fish-bear from her cupped palms into the water.  It broke the surface with a too-loud _shhloop,_ and she had to hold back a giggle.  It was a dumb sound that Sokka would’ve appreciated.

As the carving slowly sunk, the fish continued their orbit.  Their inverse-colored markings were mesmerizing, hypnotizing… always in balance, pushing and pulling…

One second Sokka’s carving was sinking through the spirit water.  The next she blinked, and it was melting like seal blubber in a lamp.

“What—?”

Light exploded around her; she threw up an arm to shield her eyes.  Ice crawled across her skin, so _cold,_ like she’d jumped into the frozen ocean. It shocked her system after the warmth of the Oasis.  What—?

_“Katara,”_ a familiar voice said.  _“It’s so good to see you.”_

The sudden cold dimmed at the voice.  After blinking the last of the spots from her eyes, Katara grinned.

“Yue!”

The girl glowed with all the light of the moon she’d sacrificed herself to save.  Her white hair and robes billowed around her, almost distracting the Katara from the fact that they were _standing on top of the spirit pool._ Tui was currently absent, but La still swam in a steady circle.  That was enough to convince Katara that everything was okay, even though the lazy waves of mist flowing around the pool shrouded anything else in the Oasis.  She couldn’t tell if the guards were still there, or if they could see what she was seeing.

“Where—are we—?”

_“Between the realm of spirits and your world.”_  Yue’s voice echoed and faded, like she was calling from a far distance despite standing inches away.  _“Normally I wouldn’t be able to reach you, even at the Oasis, but it seems you’ve connected with a spirit since we last met.”_

A brief image of a lady with red markings and a wide white hat flashed in her mind.

“The Painted Lady,” she gasped.  The river, the ocean, the moon… she guessed it made sense that they were all connected.

Yue nodded.  _“I will have to thank her.  And thank Sokka for his gift.”_ She giggled.

“Oh, um, about that… he had a message, too.  He’s not sure if you’ve heard him speaking to you…”

_“I have.”_ Her bright smile turned more somber, like the full moon waning to a crescent.  _“Of course he has my blessing.  He doesn’t need it, but I’m honored that he asked anyway.  I will do whatever I can for him and Suki.”_

She really had been listening.  Katara briefly wondered how awkward that could be for Sokka, having his ex-girlfriend able to see so much of what he did with his current one.

“Thank you, Yue.”  She clasped her hands and bowed a deep Water Tribe bow.  To her surprise, Yue returned the gesture.

_“Thank you too, Katara.  It was sweet of you to come all this way for your brother.”_ Her voice was growing fainter; she must not be able to keep up this conversation for long.

“Well, uh… it wasn’t just for him,” she admitted, biting her lip.  Yue was understanding, but how _would_ she feel about her using the sacred water to heal the Fire Lord, even if he was a friend?  The Fire Nation was the reason she was in the Spirit World instead of with Sokka herself.

_“I know.  I wish I could give you what you really came here for.”_

Katara’s eyes widened.  “The spirit water?  Could you—?”

_“Not now.”_ Yue’s form wavered, becoming more and more like the mist that enshrouded them.  _“If you return on the full moon, perhaps.  Though I don’t believe that’s what you really want.”_

“What do you mean?  I want to help Zuko!  Please!”

Katara reached out, but her hand passed right through Yue’s middle.

_“I know you will,”_ she said.  Her lips might have mouthed something else as well, but by then her voice had faded entirely.  It wasn’t long before her fragile physical form did too, leaving only more mist, mist that was moving faster, swirling around her, caving in despite her frantic attempt to bend it— 

Just when she thought she wouldn’t be able to breathe, the mist vanished.  Solid ground was beneath her knees—she was back in the Spirit Oasis.  The physical one.  The two koi once again circled each other, and she couldn’t help wondering how much of Yue was in the fish, and how much was shining down on her from above.

What did the other girl mean?  How much did she know?  Of _course_ Katara wanted the spirit water!  She’d done everything she could to push her own irrelevant feelings aside.  She wanted Zuko to have everything he deserved, everything she hadn’t been able to give him before.

_I’ll just have to prove to her that that’s what I want_ , she decided.  She would come back on the full moon, no matter what it took.  

With that decided, she bid one last goodbye to Yue—smiling when she noticed that Sokka’s carving was still missing from the pool—before she rejoined the two guards on the other side of the bridge.  She considered asking them if they’d noticed anything strange, but figured that would just make her look crazy or bring up too many questions.  Besides, if they’d seen Yue, Nalluk wouldn’t be pestering Lunn behind her like nothing had happened.

After they exited through the wooden doors, she thanked them and quickly made her way down the city’s upper tiers towards her guest house.  The waxing moon still gleamed off every surface, only emphasizing what she couldn’t forget.

The full moon.  That was in three days.  Would they even be staying that long?  She thought Zuko had said the last meetings would be held today.  There wouldn’t be anything to delay the Fire Nation delegation from leaving if that was the case.

Her fists clenched and unclenched inside her parka.  She’d _promised_ she would help.  How could she come this close just to fail?  She had spoken with the moon spirit personally, and it still wouldn’t make a difference unless she could buy more time.

“Girl, are you going to clean this up?”  A middle-aged man stopped her as she passed over an arching bridge.

“What?”  

She blinked when he pointed behind her. A thin trail of icicles had sprouted in the wake of each of her footsteps.  

“Oh.  Of course.”

He snorted and brushed past her.  “Women benders...”

Her warm embarrassment froze into anger.  _“What_ did you just say?”

The man didn’t even bother to turn.  He kept walking in the opposite direction at the same leisurely pace.  “There’s a reason women aren’t meant to learn waterbending.”

“You think so?”  She asked with fake, frosty brightness.  

“I know so.  Look at what your volatile emotions have done.”  He snorted, still walking away. 

Oh, he thought her emotions were _volatile,_ did he?

She shifted her stance, and with perfect control, melted the ice beneath the man’s feet.  The street liquified at an angle, sending the man sliding towards the open canal.

A yelp split the night, followed by a loud _splash_ and an even louder stream of curses.

“Careful, I don’t think my _feminine ears_ were meant to hear that,” she called down into the canal.  The man’s black mustache was plastered to his cheeks; he clung to the side of a gondola and glared up with enough anger to put his swears to shame.  

Maybe she shouldn’t have done it.  The man could’ve been a waterbender too, and while she knew she could hold her own in a fight—she’d beaten _Azula—_ brawling in the streets would reflect badly on the other girls who’d been accepted into combat classes.  If she ruined things for them, she might never forgive herself.

But _spirits_ , did it feel good.

The man spouted a few more disgruntled insults and paddled off in the gondola.  No brawling in the streets, then.  

Her face flushed as she began smoothing out the small stalagmites of ice that the man had originally complained about.  It was one thing to decide to dump a jerk in the canal.  It was another to accidentally ruin the whole street.  She wasn’t used to having so much of her element around to influence by accident. 

She hadn’t expected how far she’d have to retrace her steps to get rid of all the wayward icicles, either.  She hadn’t been brooding _that_ long, had she?  The thought that her actions might have given the man fuel for his argument only irritated her further.

She exhaled deeply and brought her palms down in front of her.  The last of the icicles retreated into the empty street.

That was when she noticed a hooded figure watching her from the shadows between two buildings.

“Look, I’m fixing it,” she snapped.  “I already got one lecture, and it didn’t end well for him.”

The figure’s laugh startled her.  “Trust me, I know better than to fight a master waterbender in the middle of her element.”

Her eyes widened.  “ _Zuko?”_

He stepped into the light, tugged back the hood of his parka— _her_ parka—and smiled.  “I didn’t think this disguise would fool you.”

“I just—I wasn’t expecting to see you.”  

Especially like this, in her clothes, her colors—she was struck just as much as the first time he tried her parka on.  He looked good in blue.  The color complemented his eyes softened the shade of his scar.  Bundled in the parka, he’d probably feel extra warm and soft to hug, too.

“Oh.  Sorry?”  His shoulders crept up closer to his  ears; his neck disappeared into the fluffy collar.  “I went to your house but you weren’t home, and then I overheard some guy in a canoe muttering to himself about a waterbending girl messing up the road…”

“Oh, so you just knew I would be messing up?”  She made sure not to manipulate the ice again, as annoyed as she was.  She was only frustrated in the first place because she was trying to help him!  And because of that idiot’s comment, though she probably should have been used to people like him by now.  She couldn’t dump _every_ Northern man into a river.  Probably.  

“No, there just aren’t very many girls who know how to pull up spikes of ice here,” Zuko said carefully.

Right.  Because most of the women were still just healers.  Of course Zuko of all people wouldn’t be trying to insult her.

“Are you alright?”  He stepped closer, and her stomach fluttered, excitement at seeing him again tainted by the bad news she’d eventually need to share.

“Why were you looking for me?”  She asked back in an attempt to push off the feeling.

His golden eyes caught the moonlight for a moment before he looked away.  “I just thought you’d want to hear what happened in the meetings.  Since I couldn’t get you in today—is that why you’re upset?”

She crossed her arms.  “What makes you think I’m upset?”

This time he looked back at her and raised his eyebrow, as if to ask, _are we really going to have this conversation?_

“Fine.  The man you saw just said something stupid.  I took care of that though.”  It wasn’t the whole truth, but she’d tell him about the spirit water eventually.  She wasn’t ready to see his inevitable disappointment yet.

“I could tell.”  He chuckled.  “He still looked soaked.  What did he do to provoke you?”

Though his tone was light, his eyes were narrowed.  What was he thinking to give him such an intense expression?

“Just insulted women waterbenders.  You know.  The usual.”  She rolled her eyes.

He snorted a tiny puff of smoke, which was somehow more cute than intimidating, despite the scowl on his face.  Maybe it was because she knew it wasn’t directed at her.

“I can’t believe they really get away with that here.”

“They don’t while I’m around,” she said, and started heading back towards the guest hut.  The polar cold was starting to seep through her gloves.  “I’ve probably got to come up with a better strategy than dumping guys in the canal, though.  There won’t be enough room for them all.”

Zuko laughed at that, a real laugh, the rare kind she so rarely got to hear.  It smoothed her lingering frustration, and soon she was laughing too.

“You sure you want to be an ambassador?  You’d make a way better bodyguard.”

She was about to make a retort—that she wasn’t Fire Nation, she couldn’t be his bodyguard—but another realization made her bite her cheek:  her actions didn’t just reflect on her, or even just on the girls learning to fight here.  She was technically here representing the Southern Tribe.

Then again, she was sure Gran-Gran would have done the same thing in her shoes, had she been able to.  And it wasn’t like the North _really_ respected the South, anyway.  There wasn’t much of a relationship to ruin.

“I don’t know if I want to keep being an ambassador or not,” she admitted.  “I like being able to help, but I’m not exactly the _diplomatic_ type.  I’m pretty surprised the council let me in at all.”

Especially considering their views on women.  Zuko must have had something to do with it, but she had no idea what he’d done to make them accept her.  It wasn’t like he could make demands, either, considering the Fire Nation was still shaking off the ashes of its dishonor.

“You’ve done great, Katara,” he assured her, looking slightly baffled at her doubt.  “Why wouldn’t they let you in?  You’re Water Tribe too, and you helped end the war.  You’re a hero.”

“They don’t know that.”  At least, Yugoda hadn’t.  Maybe the council had gleaned the information from her interactions with Zuko.  “I guess it doesn’t matter, though.  The negotiations are over.  We’ll… we’ll be leaving soon, won’t we?”

“Oh, right. I almost forgot…”  He rubbed the back of his neck.  “It seems like we’ll have to stay a few more days than I had planned.  If you need Aang to come pick you up or anything, I understand.”

A few more…?  Then she’d get to spend a few more days with Zuko—and they _would_ be here for the full moon!  

“No, I’m sure they’ll be fine without me for a little longer.  Why are we staying, though?  I thought you said this was the last meeting.”

“It was.  But to celebrate the first successful relationship between the Water Tribes and the Fire Nation in one hundred years, Chief Arnook wants to hold a feast.”

“That’s great news!”  Katara remembered the last Water Tribe feast she’d attended, for Yue’s birthday.  The thought sombered her a little, even if she still looked forward to the celebration and traditional Water Tribe food.

“Yeah.  I’ll just have to let Uncle know we’ll be late…”

His brow furrowed.  His uncle ran a teashop in uptown Caldera when he wasn’t helping Zuko at the palace, but that could wait a few more days, couldn’t it?

“Is that a problem?”  She asked.  “Your uncle will understand, won’t he?”

“ _He_ will.”  His scowl deepened.  “But if I write him back when I didn’t answer Mai’s letter, she’ll find out.  I know it.”

His face smoothed as he sighed in resignation.  Katara didn’t understand.  Had he not had the time to write Mai back this morning?  She had to know how busy Zuko was.

Not so busy that he couldn’t walk Katara back to her room, though.  The thought warmed her in a way it probably shouldn’t.

“You can always write her back tonight,” Katara pointed out.

Zuko shook his head.  “No, I can’t.”

“What do you mean?  We won’t get back _that_ late—”

He stopped short and then, for some reason, he laughed.  The humorless sound made her frown.

“What?  Is something—?”

“I’m breaking up with her.”

Katara froze.  Her lips parted, but no sound came out.  She couldn’t imagine what she would’ve said.  Her heart was doing flips in spite of herself, which was very, _very_ rude of it.  

He stared up at the moon, his unscarred profile outlined in its glow, and let out a shaky, misty breath.  “I’m breaking up with Mai.”

“You—what?”  She spluttered.  Was she dreaming?  “ _Why?”_

A tongue of flame escaped his lips before they pressed together in a tight line.  “A lot of reasons, honestly.”

_What’s that supposed to mean?_ She wanted to ask, but waited patiently instead.  Often Zuko needed time to translate the emotions she could practically feel flickering off of him.  

“...Do you really want to know?”  He asked quietly, gold iris flashing as he looked at her from the corner of his eye.

“If you want to tell me.”  It had made her feel better to vent her frustrations about Aang, but she didn’t know if Zuko would feel the same.  She barely knew anything about his relationship with Mai, honestly.  She never knew how to ask, and he (thankfully) wasn’t one to gush over his girlfriend to others.

He nodded shallowly before sitting down at the edge of the canal and dangling his legs over the water.  She settled beside him, watching his reflection ripple in the current below.

His fists clenched, sparks popping as they shook.  “She disrespected Uncle.”

“What?”  It wasn’t what she’d expected to hear, but she could understand why that would upset him.  His uncle was the only family he had left—the only family that still felt like family, anyway.  “But _everyone_ loves your Uncle.”

“That’s what I thought,” he huffed.  “He’s been trying to get to know her, and from her letter, it sounds like she’s been completely blowing him off.  I should have realized sooner—she never comes when we have tea together, no matter how many times I’ve invited her.  I thought she just didn’t like the way I make it…”

Katara snorted.  “Like anyone could _not_ like your tea.”

_Like anyone could not like_ you _._

Zuko chuckled hollowly.  “I could handle her not liking my tea, but that’s not even half of it.  She doesn’t like _anything._ Well… except maybe me.”

“Maybe?”  She couldn’t help scoffing.  If Mai couldn’t respect the one person Katara knew Zuko loved more than anyone, could she really claim to like him, much less love him?  Katara’s own fists clenched at the thought, and frost crackled over the canal.  “How can you be with someone and not even know if she likes you?”

“Well—she’s not exactly open with her feelings.  She doesn’t hate me.  That means a lot coming from Mai.” It was hard to tell if he was defending her, or just trying to explain.  In that moment, it didn’t matter.  

“Does she do _anything_ to show you she cares?”  Katara had only seen Zuko and Mai together on a couple of occasions—at the opening of his uncle’s teashop, and right before this trip, actually.  On both occasions they had seemed standoffish, but she just assumed they weren’t into public displays of affection, and counted herself lucky.  

Guilt prickled under her skin.  If she hadn’t been so bothered by seeing them together, would she have noticed how Zuko was hurting sooner?  

“She saved us from Azula when Sokka and I went to rescue your dad.”  He shrugged, swinging his legs slightly over the frosty water.  “She let herself get put in prison because of me.  I—I owed her for that.  Or at least, I thought I did.”  He grimaced.  “She’s going to kill me for breaking up with her.”

His whole back slumped as he rested his chin in his palm, but she didn’t miss how he flinched deeper into his parka. Katara was still dumbstruck.

“That better just be an expression.”  

Zuko had _enough_ threats to deal with.  If he was seriously worried about his girlfriend plotting his death, too, Katara wouldn’t hesitate to storm the Fire Palace a second time.

“Maybe she won’t if I tell her to her face this time.”  He didn’t sound hopeful, and his clenched fist pressed tensely against his middle.  

Katara was still processing everything else he’d said, though.

“And you don’t _owe_ her anything, Zuko—you either want to be with someone or you don’t.  You can’t just—ugh, that sounds like how Aang makes me feel.  Like if you do one thing for someone, it means you _deserve_ them, and it’s not—it doesn’t work like that!”

Zuko’s eyes widened.  “Katara?”

“What?”  She practically snapped, then realized that the ice they were sitting on had begun to crack from her frustrated arm gestures.  “Spirits, not again.”

She stood and bent the ice back together before the ledge could crack off and dump them in the canal.  Suddenly she felt the barest flash of sympathy for the man she’d soaked earlier.

“Sorry.  I got… carried away.”  She sat back down again and curled her knees into her chest, trying to hold in all the embarrassment and indignation that still threatened to boil out.  Regardless of her own feelings, she’d honestly been glad that Zuko had Mai.  That he had _someone,_ when he sounded so lonely, but now it seemed that support system was less supportive than she’d thought.

“It’s okay.”  He grinned like she’d just told a joke.  “I’ve been there.”

She relaxed and dangled her legs back over the water.  He of all people wouldn’t judge her for angry outbursts, at least.

“I just want you to be happy, Zuko.  And it sounds like you’re not.”

It was a blunt and tactless way of putting it, but he just frowned thoughtfully.

“Mai and I were never really _happy,_ I think.  We were just… miserable together.”  He sighed.  “It was nice when I first went back to the Fire Nation, after—after.”

He grimaced, and she didn’t have to ask what he meant.  

“I still didn’t trust Azula, but Mai made life at the palace bearable—until I stopped pretending I could sit idly while my father set the world on fire.  Then I left to join your team, and everything changed. _I_ changed.” 

His gaze unfocused, like he was reliving those memories.  Moments Katara had witnessed herself.  Moments Mai would never fully know.  

“But Mai doesn’t see that,” he finally muttered.  “Or else she doesn’t want to.”

Katara frowned, but he continued before she could say anything.

“I’m done, though.  I won’t pretend to be someone I’m not.”  His voice was steadier now.  Fire gleamed in his eye, the determination and drive she admired in him.  How could anyone want to snuff that out?

“Good.  You shouldn’t.” Without making a conscious decision, she gripped his hand.  His fingers twitched before squeezing back.

“You’re so much better now than you were before,” she continued, emboldened by his touch.  “You’re stronger and kinder than you ever were.  If she can’t see that, then—well then she’s missing out.”

Her eyes widened.  _Spirits_ , could she have been any more obvious?  But she couldn’t bring herself to regret her words.  Especially not when he stared back at her, his expression softer than she’d ever seen.  They were sitting so close their legs almost brushed, and his hand was warm even through the thick leather of their gloves, and his lips were parted just barely, like he was waiting for her to…

_What are you thinking?  He just barely decided to break up with Mai!  You really think he wants you shoving yourself at him now?_

“Thank you, Katara.”  He whispered.  If he had any idea what she'd been thinking, he didn’t show it. He stood and pulled her to her feet by their linked hands.

“No problem.  It’s—I mean, you helped me with Aang.  So we’re even now, I guess,” she said too quickly, just so she could say _something,_ instead of looking at his lips.  “I mean, breaking up with your actual girlfriend is probably harder, but...”

“I get it,” he said, mercifully cutting off her rambling.  “It won’t be easy.  I don’t want to hurt her any more than you want to hurt Aang.  But it feels right.”

His eyes flickered towards their hands.  For a moment she could almost imagine that was what he meant—that he felt right with _her._ Before her imagination could take over, she dropped his palm and swiped her glove across the side of her parka, even though no sweat could have leaked through.  

“Good luck, then,” she said.  She debated offering to be there in case Mai _did_ try to kill him, but was afraid that might come off as excessive.

“I probably won’t.  But I’m used to that.”  He shrugged, stuffing his hand back into his pocket.

The rest of the walk back to the guest hut was spent in silence that danced between comfortable and anxious.  The smooth side of his face creased in thought every once in a while, but whatever had him in such deep contemplation never made it into words.

Eventually the hut came into view.  She expected Zuko to part ways and head towards the palace, but he walked her all the way to the front door, then paused awkwardly.

“Did you want tea again?”  She asked, trying to break the weird tension that had sprung up.

“Do you want to do something tomorrow?”  He said suddenly.

She wasn’t sure what she’d expected him to say, but it wasn’t that.  Her palms warmed inside her gloves.

“I just mean, I haven’t seen most of the North Pole since I’ve been in so many meetings—well I guess I saw it before, but it was mostly in the turtleseal tunnels, and the Spirit Oasis, and then when I was fighting Zhao, and uh—anyway, since all the meetings are over, I just thought.  It could be.  Nice.”

He swallowed.  In spite of herself, Katara wanted to laugh.  He was still so embarrassed about what he’d done last time he was in the Northern Water Tribe; when would he believe that he was forgiven?

“Of course I’ll show you around,” she said, mentally cancelling her training plans.  “I’ve got to find Toph and Aang a souvenir, anyway.”

“Great!  Good.  Um.  Thanks.  I’ll see you tomorrow then?”

“I just said that, Zuko.”  

“Right.”  He nodded.  “Goodnight.  See you—see you.”

He practically bolted back towards the palace, leaving her standing on her doorstep, wondering what on earth had spooked him.  Had he noticed someone watching them?  She scanned the surrounding huts, but since most were made for important-but-not-palace-important visitors, it was as deserted as ever.

She’d never gotten to tell him about trying to get the spirit water, she realized too late.  Maybe it was for the best; she still wanted to think on what Yue had said, and she didn’t feel ready to share that experience yet.  It seemed she would have plenty of time to tell him tomorrow, anyway.

Later that night when she was finally lying in bed, another late realization sent her bolting upright.

_Wait.  Did Zuko just ask me out on a date?_

XXX

It wasn’t a date.  It wasn’t a date, he’d never used the word _date,_ thank Agni.  He wasn’t good at dates—he’d learned that much from going out with Mai.  It would be stupid to ruin his friendship with Katara by selfishly reaching for more than he already had.  

Maybe their friendship wouldn’t be _ruined—_ she was willing to stay friends with Aang, even after his unwelcome advances, but it would still be inconsiderate for Zuko to expect that.What they had now was good.  It was safe, and comfortable, and he could be himself.  If he told Katara his feelings, all of that might change.  

Besides, if he took that risk now, it would look like a pathetic reaction to breaking up with Mai.  Like Katara was his second choice.  That couldn’t be further from the truth.

It wasn’t a date.  It wasn’t a date, but the thought of spending the day with her still distracted him during his morning routine.  His topknot was sloppy; he could do better than that.  Only then he remembered the feeling of Katara’s fingers brushing back his hair, and the thin ribbon slipped again.  For once he wished he’d allowed a few of the palace servants to come on the trip.  He was going to be late if he didn’t get ahold of himself.

It wasn’t a date, but his heart still sank when Advisor Shokuri informed him that the Northern Tribe had assigned a representative to escort him and Katara today.  It was better than taking guards, he supposed, but not by much.  He should have expected this from the moment he’d suggested taking a casual tour of the city.  He wasn’t an exiled prince, a refugee, or a traitor anymore; he was the Fire Lord.  And the Fire Lord couldn’t do anything _casually._

He didn’t let his disappointment show as he inclined his head to Ambassador Lorrak, who bowed in return.  If any of the Water Tribe men were going to play babysitter, at least it was someone he knew and respected.  He’d worked closely with the Ambassador in the weeks leading up to this trip as well as during the trade meetings themselves, and while his boisterous voice took some getting used to, his charismatic manner reminded Zuko a little of Uncle.

Plus, Ambassador Lorrak had never stared at his scar.  Zuko wondered if that was because of the old burns that wound their way up the man’s arms when his sleeves slid back.  A scarred Ambassador to deal with a scarred Fire Lord.  He hoped that was just coincidence, and not some kind of statement.  In the Fire Nation it certainly would be, but Katara seemed to think the Water Tribes didn’t work that subtly.  Then again, the North Pole was clearly different from her home in the South.

Regardless, it wasn’t Lorrak’s fault that they both had scars, or that Zuko wasn’t allowed in the city unsupervised.  He would at least be polite, even if his nervousness put him on edge.

“So,” Lorrak began strangely as they descended the steps towards the guest house. “Katara, hmm?”

“What about her?” Zuko asked just a touch defensively. If he was going to suggest she not come with them after all…

“Nothing, nothing.” The Ambassador shook his head with a knowing smile, though what he knew, Zuko couldn’t begin to guess. “I’m just pleased to see relations between the Fire Nation and the Water Tribes being strengthened.”

Today’s excursion had little to do with strengthening political bonds, but explaining that would reveal more than Zuko wanted to. 

“Let’s not talk about work today,” he suggested. It would be dishonorable to say he didn’t want Lorrak here at all, but he couldn’t help thinking it.  “I’d like to just enjoy the city.”  

“Very well, Your Majesty. I hope you’ll find it as enjoyable as the company.”  

His blue eyes twinkled all too much like Uncle’s.  There was definitely something weird going on with him.  This wouldn’t turn into some game of unspoken messages, would it?  The trade negotiations were over.  Chief Arnook and the council wouldn’t go back on their word.  Right?

Zuko sighed.  He really just wanted a peaceful day with Katara, but it seemed that was impossible.  If they were in the Fire Nation, things would be different; they would be able to go where they liked at least within Caldera.  Or maybe if this actually _was_ a date, if he hadn’t spun it as another facet of the diplomatic trip…

The cold morning breeze cut through his thoughts.  He wished he’d been able to wear Katara’s parka again instead of his formal robes.  He had his breath of fire, but that required constant effort.  Besides, her parka had been more than just warm; it had felt like being wrapped in one of her hugs.  Agni, he missed those.

The sun was cresting the eastern cliffside by the time he and Lorrak reached the house.  Pink light wrapped around him and glimmered off the icy architecture.  He took a moment to admire it—and, discreetly, to gather his courage (even though it _wasn’t a date)—_ and then he knocked.

Katara pulled the door open, looking much more awake than the last time he’d shown up on her doorstep.  It probably helped that she was expecting him this time.  Her hair was braided down her back and she was already wrapped in her parka.  She, at least, would get to be comfortable today.

“Hey!”  She beamed.  That look alone might be enough to keep him warm.  “You ready for the grand tour?”

A smile snuck out in response to hers.  Date or diplomatic visit, parka or robes, chaperone or no chaperone, he was still getting to spend time with one of his best friends.  For now, that was enough.

But then Katara’s gaze focused over his shoulder, and her smile faltered.  “Couldn’t sneak out this time, huh?”

_“Shh.”_ His eyes darted over to Lorrak—who was standing several paces further back than Zuko remembered.  That was weird, but at least it meant he probably hadn’t heard her.  “I’m the Fire Lord.  I’m not allowed to—I don’t _sneak.”_

To her credit, she didn’t snort, though the repressed laughter shone in her eyes.  “Sorry.  I should have realized...”

“Me too.  Sorry I didn’t tell you.”  Because in his panic of almost-not-quite asking her on a date last night, he hadn’t even considered it.  “It would insult their hospitality if I didn’t accept an escort from the North.”  That was the official reasoning, anyway.

“I guess being royalty has its downsides.”  She squeezed his hand in sympathy, but let it go even more quickly than she had last night.  He tried to ignore the itch of disappointment.

Lorrak chose that moment to step forward.  “Ambassador Katara.”

“Ambassador Lorrak.”

The warm smile returned to her face as they exchanged bows.  At least they had worked together during the trade talks too.  Zuko wouldn’t have to worry about them getting along.

“It will be my pleasure to show you and the Fire Lord around our fair city.  I hope you won’t find my presence too great of a nuisance.”  

_Nuisance?  Wasn’t he just talking about being “enjoyable company” earlier?_

“I—Not at all, Ambassador.” Katara’s face flushed as red as Zuko’s robes, but the man just chuckled deeply.

“Please, call me Lorrak.  If we both call each other Ambassador, I’ll get as confused as a turtleseal chasing its tail.”  He gave a discreet wink.

“Right.”  She relaxed a little.  “Just Katara is fine too.”

He couldn’t exactly ask to be called _just Zuko,_ unfortunately.  Lorrak’s presence meant he had to keep some pretense of formality.  He was beginning to wish he’d just snuck out instead—except his advisors would know if he went missing for a whole day, and the Water Tribe would think he was sabotaging them somehow, and it would create a whole international incident.  One uninterrupted day with Katara wasn’t worth that.

“Where would you like to begin the tour?”  Zuko asked Lorrak when he realized he and Katara were waiting on him.

“If there is nowhere you two had in mind, the canals are beautiful place to start the morning.”  His smile deepened the creases around his eyes before he turned away.  “The canal system is the pride of the Northern Water Tribe, particularly now that our walls are less necessary, I hope.”

Zuko rubbed the back of his neck at that.  Just because Lorrak was friendly didn’t mean he was free from the wounds the Fire Nation had inflicted on the Water Tribes.  Maybe that’s what the burn scars on his arms really represented—the danger of growing too close to fire.

But Lorrak’s exposition turned to safer waters after that.  He described the waterbending techniques used to create and maintain the canals as Zuko and Katara followed him down the path.  It was fascinating, the way bending could be used to build rather than to destroy.  No architecture could be built from fire, though on some islands of the Fire Nation benders would still heat bricks in kilns, plaster them together with mortar, and harden the outside with a quick wave of fire.  Still, it was nothing like the smooth, fluid process Lorrak described.

Finally they rounded a corner, and the canals Lorrak had so intricately explained came into view.  He was right—with the pink sky reflecting off the silver water and arching bridges, the canals _were_ beautiful.  This one cut a curving line between tiered houses before disappearing around the bend.  Wooden gondolas paddled in both directions, cruising gently as they gave each other plenty of space in the wide waterway.

It was peaceful, yet the quiet splashes and friendly calls between gondoliers gave the scene a life that the Fire Palace lacked.

“Glad you are enjoying the sights, Your Majesty.  You can stare as much as your heart desires while we float,” Lorrak said, passing Zuko an oar.

“...What?”  He stared at the wooden paddle, vaguely wondering where Lorrak had gotten it, before he saw the two gondolas drifting at the edge of the canal.  Two.  They wouldn’t all be floating together?  Was Lorrak going to make Katara and him split up?  It was ridiculous how much the thought made his stomach drop.

“You wanted the full tour.  You haven’t seen the North Pole until you’ve seen it by gondola.”  Lorrak winked, then stepped into the smaller of the two canoes. 

“But—” Zuko looked to him, to his oar, and back again.  “I don’t know how to canoe.”

Katara giggled.  Were they both playing some kind of trick on him?  He shot her a glare, but it softened at the wide grin splitting her face.

“Oh, I’m sure you’ll catch on wonderfully,”  Lorrak called.  “I’ll be waiting at the Central Fountain.  Take your time!”

And then he was paddling away, leaving Zuko more bewildered than ever.  He couldn’t help feeling like he was being tested somehow.

“Why am I the only one with the oar?”  He hefted the wooden stick in one hand.  It felt off-balanced, but he might have been subconsciously weighing it against his dao swords.

Katara flexed her fingers with a grin. “Waterbender, remember?”

“Right,” he mumbled.  “So I don’t have to worry about us capsizing?”

“Trust me, you’re not the kind of guy I make a habit of dunking in polar water.”

“It wouldn’t be the first time,” he replied absently, distracted by observing how she climbed into the gondola.  One hand kept contact with the mooring post at all times until she was settled on the front bench.  He was pretty sure he could pull that off without falling.

“Hey, I didn’t dump _you_ in the canal.”  She met his eyes, and he wondered if she caught him staring.  This time he’d had a perfectly good reason.  “At least, I don’t think I did…”

Carefully he lowered himself onto the bench behind her.  His weight made the wooden canoe sink deeper into the water, which almost threw him off balance.  Katara grabbed his arm to steady him, but he still nearly dropped the oar.  This tiny wooden thing was nothing like the ships he was used to.  Only once he was sure he wasn’t going to topple over did he answer her unspoken question.

“No, it wasn’t you.”  He smiled wryly.   _Not for lack of trying, though_.  “Did you ever wonder how I got into the Spirit Oasis?”

Her back was to him, but she looked at him over her shoulder.  “Not until now.  I was pretty used to you showing up when I least wanted to see you, honestly.”

“Fair enough,” he murmured.  The familiar prickle of shame was fading, but still there.  He ignored it and dipped the oar into the water experimentally, watching as ripples distorted the clear surface.  “I’ll tell you, but we should probably catch up to Lorrak before we lose him.”

“Right.”  She turned backwards on the bench and swung her legs around so they were sitting knee to knee.  He could handle the close proximity, even if it sent sparks flickering over his skin.  It was just Katara—well not _just_ Katara, she was too important to him to be called _just_ , and... he was going to stop thinking now, before he made any less sense.

“Okay, so you’ll just alternate rowing on each side to make us go in a straight line.  If you want to turn left, paddle on the right, and if you want to turn right, paddle on the left.  Make sense?”

“Sure,” he said, though he was a little worried about how he was going to switch sides without whacking her with the oar.  

He almost did whack her a couple of times before he got the hang of it.  She teased him a little, but it was the comfortable kind of teasing, nothing like the sharp words she had used to spear him back at the Western Air Temple. She complemented his rowing with her bending, circling her arms in a slow, unbroken rhythm as he directed her.  They steadily began to catch up with Lorrak, who glanced back at them and propelled himself faster with his own waterbending.

“It’s almost like he wants to lose us,” Zuko muttered, his shoulders burning in spite of the cold.  He considered himself in good shape, but rowing strained muscles he didn’t use in firebending (or even in climbing down the sides of slick buildings).

“I’m not complaining.” Katara flushed before quickly saying, “You were telling me how you got in the Spirit Oasis, weren’t you?”

“Oh, yeah.” He shivered as a few drops of freezing water splashed up from his oar. “They really need to tighten their security.  I followed the turtleseals.  They have their own tunnels under the outer wall that lead straight to the Oasis.”

Their canoe jolted to a stop when Katara’s arms froze.  Even Zuko’s oar didn’t push them forward.  

Had he made a mistake in telling her?  She knew he would never sneak into a sacred place like that now, right?  The look on her face was impossible to read, calculating yet distant, like she was looking not at him but through him.

“I’m sorry,” he said, though he’d apologized for that and just about everything else he’d ever done already.

“No, I was just thinking—you’re right.  They really do need better security.”  She looked away and began bending again.  

“I’d tell them that myself, but…”

Katara laughed.  “I can see it now.  _Hey, I broke into the most sacred place in the North Pole!  Might want to fix that!”_

“I wouldn’t say it like _that,_ ” he huffed, but that was essentially how it would come off.  Besides, it wasn’t like they were at war anymore.  No one else would have a reason to search for that secret entrance, if anyone else could even survive it.

“No.  You’d be very diplomatic about it, I’m sure.”

“More diplomatic than you, Katara _Throws-Guys-in-the-Canal_ of the Southern Water Tribe.”

Katara snorted once.  Then she doubled over with a cackle so loud it startled the citizens walking across the bridge above.

While she struggled to get ahold of herself, he kept paddling, because otherwise they were _never_ going to catch up to Lorrak.  (Though he also wasn’t convinced that would be a bad thing.)

She gasped for breath and wiped her eye with the fingers of her glove.  “ _You’re_ the one with the temper everyone makes fun of, but—”  Another round of laughter shook her shoulders.  “You’ve got a point.  He still deserved it, though.”

“I don’t doubt it.”

Katara remembered to waterbend them up to speed again, though they kept talking and joking lightly.  He kept an eye on Lorrak, whose canoe stayed just far enough ahead to be out of earshot.  He was probably supposed to be focusing on the near-mystical architecture the ambassador had pointed out, but no matter how fascinating the city was, he couldn’t take his eyes off Katara.  Even though they were near the center of town now, with more gondolas passing by and citizens strolling down the streets, it was easy to pretend it was just the two of them enjoying each others’ company.

Easy.  Being with Katara was _easy,_ in a way that so much of his life wasn’t.  Of course, it hadn’t started that way, but maybe that was what made it feel so worth it.  

He realized for the first time in a while, he didn’t feel the need to touch his scar.  But maybe that was because the person it connected him to was sitting right across from him, her knees brushing his each in between each stroke of his oar.

He held onto the feeling even when Lorrak waved them over, and they tied their gondola at a short dock and stepped back on land.  Or, well, ice.

If he held Katara’s hand a moment too long when she helped him up, well, they were friends.  It wasn’t weird.

“I told you you would catch on.”  The ambassador smiled before turning to lead them towards the fountain that gurgled in the center of the square.  “This used to be called Fountain Court, but it was recently renamed Yue Plaza, in honor of our late Princess.”

Katara bowed her head at that and murmured a prayer under her breath.  Zuko dipped his head in respect too.  He may not have known Yue, but from what Sokka told him, she deserved every honor the Water Tribe could give her.

“That’s her, isn’t it?”  He asked, nodding towards the ice sculpture that made up the base of the fountain.  It was a girl with her cupped palms raised high and overflowing with water.  He didn’t know how the water kept flowing, but the way it shimmered under the surface of the ice made the sculpture look even more like a spirit brought to life.

“She’s even prettier now,” Katara said quietly.

“Huh?”

“Nothing,” she covered, making Zuko wonder if he’d even heard her correctly the first time.  “Just, the statue.  It’s so much larger than life.”

“It sounds like she lived up to it.  She, uh… turned into the moon, didn’t she?”

“She became the moon spirit,”  Katara clarified, staring at the statue with a reverent expression.  The Fire Nation didn’t worship the moon, but it occurred to him how important it would be to Katara.  Her bending, a whole part of her, came from it.  Yue had sacrificed herself for that.  

_If I hadn’t kidnapped Aang… would she still be here?_ He crushed the familiar line of thought, the one that had tightened his chest too many times since Sokka had told the full story of his first girlfriend.  He’d been here when the moon spirit was killed.  He’d been unconscious for most of it, but still, he remembered the colorless night when he’d fought Zhao, through a haze of rage and pain.  

Katara’s hand slipped into his.  The gentle squeeze drew him out of his thoughts, but some of the melancholy remained.

“It’s okay, Zuko.  She’s at peace.”

He didn’t know how she could say that so confidently.  And he was grateful she didn’t say _it’s not your fault,_ because even if Zhao had dealt the killing blow, he still held part of the blame.  It had been stupid to even think about using the sacred water that now housed the spirit he’d unwittingly helped destroy.

“I’ll make it right,” he whispered to Yue’s statue.  “Somehow.”

“Zuko.”  Katara squeezed his hand again, her gloved fingers lacing through his.  “We ended the war.  We already have.”

_We already have._ Maybe… Katara was right, in a way.  He’d done most of what he could do, in working to rebuild relations with the Northern Tribe, in dethroning the man who had ordered the Siege in the first place.  But he wouldn’t forget the sacrifices that had been made along the way, either.

His free hand brushed over the fabric at his middle, and he nodded.

Ambassador Lorrak cleared his throat.  Katara sprung back from him as if the noise had been a polar leopard and not a graying old man.

“Thank you for your sympathies, Fire Lord Zuko.  It was not my intention to bring back painful memories.”  For the first time today, Lorrak’s voice was serious.  “There will be many who hold you accountable for the sins of your fathers, but I am not one of them.”

Zuko’s mouth worked soundlessly for a moment before managing a quiet, “Thank you.”  It was a rare change, hearing what someone outside of his small circle of friends honestly thought of him.  Maybe he wasn’t doing such an awful job after all.

Insisting that the tour needed lightening up, Lorrak brought the two of them to a nearby restaurant.  The building was narrow, squished in between two others, but had three tiers of windows. Zuko wouldn’t have been able to tell any of the buildings apart from the outside if it weren’t for the savory scents wafting out from the entrance. There weren’t many visitors to the North Pole, and the locals probably had their own ways of telling the gleaming white structures apart.

Inside, the space was more open than Zuko had expected. All three stories were actually one tall room ringed with interior balconies. At the center, a column of gray stone stood out darkly against the white, even though a warm glow spilled out of gaps carved within it. A fireplace of some kind, then. It was fascinating how so much fire could burn so close to the ice without melting it. The waterbending architects must have been incredibly powerful to create such strong ice.

“Pretty cool, huh?” Katara asked. She must have caught him staring.

“Yeah. This whole place… it’s incredible.” The whole North Pole was, not just the restaurant. 

“Sokka would love it. You smell that? They must be cooking every kind of meat imaginable in there.” She pointed towards the tall fireplace, which was ringed with a spiral of stairs. Platforms studded it at intervals, supporting women who turned skewers through the windows he’d noticed.

“Honestly, I’m a little jealous,” she admitted.  “We don’t have anything like this in the South Pole.”

He hid a wince.  He remembered what the South Pole looked like a year ago, and while Katara said some Pakku brought some waterbenders to help rebuild, Zuko had no idea how long it would take for the Southern Tribe to match the opulence of the North.  Maybe he could negotiate better trade deals to give them an edge, if his advisors didn’t dethrone him for giving away so many resources first.

They followed Lorrak up two flights of stairs to the third-level balcony, where an older woman seated at one of the tables waved to them.

“Nalu!  I hope we haven’t kept you waiting.”  Lorrak swept towards the table and placed a kiss at the woman’s temple.  

Zuko’s eyes widened at the display of affection.  Was this Lorrak’s wife?  Lorrak _had_ a wife?  It shouldn’t have been surprising, but Zuko really didn’t know much about the Ambassador beyond what was necessary for work. 

“Not too long, dear.”  She patted the side of his face before scooting over to make room for him on the wooden bench.  Zuko felt some relief that they wouldn’t be sitting directly on ice.

“Good.  I was worried the Fire Lord’s rowing might have held us up.”

He gaped at Lorrak’s grinning profile.  It wasn’t often he got insulted to his face anymore—not quite _insulted,_ he guessed, but still.  Maybe Katara had a point about the bluntness of Water Tribe culture.

“Don’t let him give you a hard time,” Nalu whispered conspiratorially.  “He hasn’t had to actually do his job in years.  He’s a bit rusty on talking to you Hotmen.”

“Hotmen?”  Katara giggled, and Zuko stifled a groan.  He’d thought Aang had made that up, but apparently it _was_ just incredibly outdated slang.

“Let’s just eat,” he said before he could become the butt of any other jokes.

“Whatever you say, Fire Lord Hotman.”

It took all of his self-control not to drop his head into his hands when he sat down in the booth.  But this was what he’d wanted, wasn’t it?  Something less formal than his usual Fire Lord interactions.  A casual day out with Katara wouldn’t be complete without a few of her teasing comments.

“It’s nice to meet you, Nalu,” Katara said, reaching over the table to shake the gray-haired woman’s hand.

“A pleasure, Miss Katara.” She returned a warm smile, but Katara frowned slightly.

“You know me?”

“Of course!  Lorrak has told me much about you.”

Because they were both ambassadors, Zuko guessed, if not because Katara had done so much for the world.  It was more surprising that the Water Tribe citizens _didn’t_ know all about her.  Though the exact details of how she’d saved his life were personal, they should at least know that she’d defeated Azula.  Maybe she could get a fountain in the South Pole like Yue had here.

“Really?”  Katara asked in disbelief.

“All good things.  Oh look, salmontrout!” Lorrak waved over a woman carrying a skewer with almost ten whole fish.  “You both must try this.”

More women came by at intervals, carrying spears of various fish and other meats that smelled savory enough to make Zuko’s mouth water.  Some even held grilled fruits—one which he was sure was a sliced frost melon.  He politely declined that one, and Katara offered to take his slice.  Now that they weren’t on traveling rations, it was clear she was Sokka’s sister—her plate was piled as high as Zuko’s, and might have been higher if she hadn’t eaten so quickly.

As delicious as the food smelled, it tasted even better.  The spices were different from the ones he was used to—and everything was much saltier—but he could enjoy the new flavors.  Was this what Katara ate, back home?  She said she didn’t have restaurants like this, but he wondered if the food was similar.  

There was nothing but his full mouth stopping him from asking, so he swallowed and did.

“Not really,” she said after washing down a bite of arctic hen with her warm tea.  “We have more fish and less red meat in the South Pole.  It’s even colder there, so it’s hard for animals to survive on land.  The spices are different, too… everything’s different, actually.”  She shrugged.  “I guess the cooking style is the same, though.  We used to do a lot of roasts over open fire in the lodge, when all the men were home.  They probably do again now.  I haven’t been home enough to know.”

She frowned down at her plate.

“Do you miss it there?”  He asked quietly.  Lorrak and Nalu were both surely listening, and he didn’t know if Katara would want to answer.

“Sometimes,” she admitted just as softly.  “I definitely want to visit more.  I miss Gran-Gran, and Dad… but I wouldn’t want to stay there.  I’ve loved traveling the world.  Everywhere feels a little like home now.”

“I can understand that.”  He’d spent so long trying to go back to the Fire Nation, it had taken a while to appreciate all the experiences he’d had along the way.  The Wani, the Jasmine Dragon, even the Western Air Temple… all those places were a part of him now.

“How are you liking the Fire Nation?”  Nalu asked Katara, confirming Zuko’s suspicions.  Not that he could say she was _eavesdropping_ when they were all at the same table.  It was still a little odd that she was here at all, but he guessed Lorrak hadn’t wanted to babysit two teenagers by himself.  Even if one of them was the ruler of a nation.

“It’s nice, too,” Katara replied a little awkwardly.  “It’s been a while since I’ve spent time there.  My friends and I were travelling around the Earth Kingdom, since that’s where there’s the most work to do.”

Zuko’s stomach dropped a little, and not from the weight of food settling in it.  The Fire Nation was _“nice”?_ Did she really not like his country?  Of course, it was the exact opposite of hers, with its humidity and warmth; maybe she really wouldn’t like it there… not that there was any reason for her to stay in the Fire Nation.  He wasn’t going to ask that of her, not now, not later, not even if there was a fraction of a chance she felt the way he did.  She had other desires and responsibilities.  She wouldn’t want to be tied down to the Fire Lord.

It couldn’t work.  It wouldn’t work, and he didn’t realize just how much hope had silently grown in his chest  until he had to dig it up by the roots.

“Really?”  Nalu’s thin brows rose.  “I suppose you’ll have to stay there soon enough.  Might as well enjoy your freedom while you have the chance.”

“What?”  Katara’s face mirrored Zuko’s—scrunched in confusion, darting between Nalu and Lorrak, who paused with a chunk of whale-walrus pinched between his chopsticks.

“Don’t make it sound so awful,” he admonished.  “You make it sound like he plans to keep her prisoner.”

_“Prisoner?”_   Zuko didn’t want to jump to any conclusions, but dread already began building in his stomach, churning the delicious meal to something sour.  He hated feeling two steps behind.  It felt like when Uncle gave Helmsman Iko orders behind his back, and the Wani changed course without warning.  

“Of course we don’t think you’d do such a thing,” Lorrak said quickly.  “That’s not what Nalu meant at all.”

“Then what _did_ you mean?”  Katara asked, looking between the older couple with narrowed eyes.

Nalu and Lorrak shared a look of their own.  

“They haven’t made the official announcement,” Lorrak eventually said to his wife.  “I warned you that Hotmen tend to be more shy about their feelings.”

“Nonsense.  She has his necklace!  If they were worried about it, she wouldn’t wear it so proudly.”

Aaaand the ship lurched, nearly throwing him overboard.

“My— _what?”_

Horror dawned on Katara’s face.  “You think— _Zuko—”_

“It’s always been _her_ necklace—I had it for a while, um, but I didn’t think anyone else knew that—”

“Zuko.”  Katara didn’t even peek out from between her fingers.  “Stop talking.  Please.”

“You have nothing to be embarrassed about, I promise,” Nalu interjected, stretching a comforting hand out to Katara.  “We’re all so proud of you for doing this.  And it’s clear you two have already become close.  Not all political marriages are so lucky.”

Zuko might have been thrown overboard earlier, but now he was drowning.

_Political marriages?_ Why would they bring up—what, did they think he and Katara were— 

Oh.

_OH._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes I am cutting this chapter here, thank you for your time
> 
> Will this become a fake dating fic? Will this just be a Genuine Awkward Time for everyone?  Stay tuned on the next episode of Tali Updates Once Every Two Months to find out


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